Tag: Communication

Initial Intervention – Communio

(In the Special Assembly for the Middle East of the Synod of Bishops (10-24 October, 2010), each member was allotted five minutes for an initial intervention, to be submitted in writing beforehand.)


In many languages, the word “church” has a variety of meanings. A church is a building where people pray. “Teachings of the church” refers the magisterium. “Local church” often refers to the geographical area of a diocese or eparchy. “Sui iuris church” implies both a geographical area and a body of the Christian faithful bound by similar laws, heritage and customs.
Years ago, Cardinal Avery Dulles published a theological work called “Models of the Church”. He suggested that the mystery of the Church can be described from various points of view, none of which is adequate to describe its entire reality.
We use “models” of church, whether we are conscious of it or not. For example, if you studied in a pre-Vatican II seminary, you learned the classic description of the church as a perfect society. The encyclical, “Mystici Corporis Christi”, balanced this with an emphasis on the invisible, spiritual reality of the church. Vatican II offered the image of the church as the “pilgrim People of God”. These are all models.
What was the early model of church, before Christianity became the established religion of the Roman Empire? It shows itself in the early church’s understanding of unity. Unity was fostered and recognized by ties of “pax et communio.”
This aspect of the church is a central theme of our deliberations. It stresses that the church is held together not primarily by juridical or sacramental ties but by the action of the Holy Spirit and personal bonds among its members. These bonds are nurtured, as the word “communio” suggests, by frequent and regular communication.
Our contemporary world understands this model very well — it is the essence of the internet, the powerful communication tool that is revolutionizing modern society. The name is very accurate; it truly is a network. The church itself, as a “communio”, has this aspect of a personal communications network in the Spirit.
Why bring up these considerations of ecclesiology? Because unconsciously our models of church affect our practical decisions and preoccupations.
For example, the question of jurisdiction over Eastern Christians in “the diaspora”: According to the Eastern Code, the jurisdiction of Eastern patriarchs and major archbishops is limited to their historical homelands; this presumes a territorial, geographical model of a sui iuris church. If we view such a church more as a personal network, geography is less significant and restriction of authority, less appropriate.
A second example, the immemorial principle of one bishop for each place: This presumes that “local church” means a body of Christian people living in a defined geographical area. However, if participation and communication in a personal network describe a local church, geography ceases to be the defining factor. There can be many different personal networks and many “local ordinaries” functioning in the same area.
A related example concerns interchurch relations: Since, in the perspective of church as a personal network, the peaceful coexistence of many different rites and churches in the same territory is normal, rivalries and attempts by one rite or church to recruit members from and to dominate another are inappropriate.
Canon law tends to favor a geographic notion of church. For example, there is a presumption that people live “in” a parish — but in most urban areas, people chose their parish regardless of where they live. In this case, seeking recommendations and permissions from their local, territorial pastor is awkward and usually pro forma.
Emigration can be seen in a similar way: If our concern for Middle East Christians is predominantly geographic — that they stay “in” their homelands — it is distressing to witness the steadily declining number of native Christians. However, if our concern for Middle East Christians East is personal, we can celebrate the flourishing life of those who choose to live in other parts of the world.
The “communio” of the church grows with increasing, deeper, and more effective communication. From this perspective, as we look at the churches in the Middle East and around the world, thanks be to God the church of Christ is gradually becoming more and more “one”. On the other hand, if our model of church union and unity is predominately societal and jurisdictional, then full union is an unattainable ideal.
Finally, understanding “communio” as stemming not so much from juridical or merely sacramental ties as from participation in a personal network animated by the Spirit of Christ is very important not only regarding ecumenism but also interreligious relations.
Building interreligious relations has the same challenge of increasing personal communication. Through sharing of resources, exchange of visits, common reflection, and better understanding of ethnic, cultural and linguistic differences, personal networks can and will grow — not only networks joining together believers in the one God but also joining together all spiritual and religious persons and all men and women of good will — ultimately, the whole human family.

Theologic

I don’t know if Mr. Spock ever studied logic or it was just a case of “doin’ what comes naturally.” To study logic is to learn an algebraic way of thinking. For example:

(1) All birds can fly.
(2) The creature in my cage is a bird.
Therefore, logically,
(3) the creature in my cage can fly.

However, not everything that seems logical really is. For example:

(1) All birds can fly.
(2) The creature in my cage is not a bird.
Therefore,
(3) the creature in my cage cannot fly.

Obviously, this doesn’t always hold true. Perhaps the creature in my cage is a bat. The conclusion is illogical.
In addition, there is a flaw in both examples: (1) is not true. Not all birds can fly — think of a penguin or an ostrich.
It’s more serious when we use this same kind of logic or illogic with people. For example:

(1) All Christians love others.
(2) Mariam is a Christian.
Therefore, logically,
(3) Mariam loves others.

This has the same kind of flaw: (1) is not true. Not all Christians love others — and maybe Mariam does not either.
   Here’s a worse example of bad logic:

(1) All Christians love others.
(2) Ahmed is not a Christian.
Therefore,
(3) Ahmed does not love others.

Even if (1) were true, it’s still illogical.

Illogical thinking can be dangerous, especially when it leads to taking decisions and actions affecting others. For example:

(1) Good Catholics go to heaven.
(2) Jews are not good Catholics.
Therefore,
(3) Jews cannot go to heaven.

This is completely illogical and false. Of course people who are not good Catholics can go to heaven.
Too often passion overrides logic and prompts terrible decisions. For example:

  (1) Muslims are dangerous fanatics.
(2) Iraq is a Muslim country.
Therefore,
(3) Iraqis are dangerous fanatics.

Here both the logic is sloppy and (1) is ambiguous and flawed: Some Muslims are dangerous fanatics, but not all Muslims are dangerous fanatics. And, of course the same can be said about Christians or Jews.
When I went to college many years ago, they told us, “We’re here to teach you how to think, not what to think.”
This didn’t mean that we were not going to acquire new ideas and new information. But we did learn to examine critically the new ideas and information we encountered — as well as the old ideas and information that we brought with us when we arrived. We learned to think and judge logically.
Without passion we are almost lifeless. But, passion without logic can delude us, making us dangerous and harmful to others — as well as to our ourselves.


(Published in
one, 34:2, March 2008)

We Need More Pontificating

I don’t know if you usually do it.
If you do, I urge you to continue more strongly than ever before.
If you don’t, I strongly advise you to develop the habit.
What? . . . Why, pontificating, of course.
No, no! Not pontificating in the sense of “acting or speaking pompously or dogmatically.” That definition is the result of a curious evolution of an excellent idea over the centuries. Let me explain what I mean.
Nowadays, the titles “Pontiff” or “Pontifex Maximus” are usually associated with the Pope. Actually, the Pope, after the collapse of the Western Roman Empire, inherited these titles that formerly belonged to the emperor.
The Roman emperor had inherited — or assumed — the office and title of Pontifex Maximus which in ancient, pagan Rome was that of the supreme religious authority.
“Pontifex” comes from two Latin words: pons (pontis), meaning a bridge, and facere, meaning to make. A pontifex is a bridge builder. (And, a Pontifex Maximus is the greatest bridge builder.)
Building a bridge in ancient times was no easy task. Spanning a broad river or a deep chasm was an engineering challenge — and often still is.
Yet, what could be more important than a bridge? A bridge unites two separated places and shores. A bridge facilitates travel, communication, trade, and all kinds of exchanges.
Good roads and bridges were part of the success of the Roman Empire. They wove scattered communities and peoples into one political fabric.

I live on an island (Manhattan), so I’ve grown up with bridges and really appreciate them — especially the beautiful suspension bridges.
Their construction starts with two great towers sunk into the river bottom or the shore. When they are complete, a line is strung across the river — then a wire — then a stronger wire — then a bundle of wires. The net result is a pair of thick steel cables from which the roadway is hung.
Bridging the gulfs of isolation and ignorance, misunderstanding and prejudice, animosity, hatred, and fear uses the same methodology. The bridge maker starts with one strand of contact and communication, reaching across from person to person, from heart to heart.
As communication becomes more frequent, as more persons relate one to the other, the fabric begins to be woven and the bridge to be built.
The paradox of the modern world is that, in spite of so many tools of communication with a potential to weave us into one, so many chasms still divide us.
By all means pontificate as much as you can. Whether you’re seeking to solve international problems or to restore unity to family or community, build bridges.
May your care and concern span the differences that fragment the world! May the subtle threads of your love be woven into those cables that sustain the great bridge of life!


(Published as “Pontificating” in
one, 30:5, September 2004)

Doggone It

The new puppy in our house was driving me crazy! I mean, I love her when she’s cute and cuddly. It’s fun when she leaps on my bed in the morning to lick my nose. But, how do I stop her from leaping all over everybody who comes into the house? And, how do I teach her that there are certain things she must do outside, not inside?
I’m a little out of practice — I haven’t had a dog around in years. I bought a book. I bought another. I tried to follow the instructions about how to teach her what to do. Nothing! No results at all! Dumb dog? or, dumb me?
A friend of mine who is a dog trainer came to give the puppy some lessons. They were really lessons for both of us. In fact, they were mostly lessons for me! He had to teach me how to teach the dog.
It was like magic. Somehow, he told her what to do, and in just a few minutes she was doing it! He really knew how to communicate with her in a way she could understand.
It took him longer to tell me what to do. Besides needing more time, he certainly needed more words!
What I’ve learned from my puppy is this: If I think I’m telling her what to do and she doesn’t do it, then it’s probably not her fault — it’s probably mine for not knowing how to communicate effectively with her.
I guess we all do similar things far more often than we realize. We think we’re explaining something very clearly or telling someone what to do, and we’re disappointed when they don’t seem to understand or seem not to follow our instructions.

That dog trainer and my puppy may be helping me to become a better priest too. If I’m trying to teach or preach the word of God and it doesn’t seem to come across — well, maybe that’s not the fault of my hearers or a lack of God’s grace. I just may be speaking a language they don’t understand.
The Church is spread through many lands and many peoples. The one message has to be articulated and uttered in a thousand different ways. The gestures and the words, the ceremonies and the traditions that speak movingly to one people may mean little to another.
A message that touches the hearts and will of one generation may hardly be noticed by the next.
What’s the use of eloquence of words and elegance of traditions if they’re not intelligible to the people who hear and experience them?
Is there something wrong nowadays? Is something lacking in this generation? Is there less generosity, less concern, less faith, less care, and less love than there used to be? Why don’t they understand?
Maybe I should loan you my puppy to help you out. She’d challenge you to learn to speak in a way that can be understood.
I bet St. Paul would have gotten along well with her. He knew all about communicating effectively. His motto was: I have become all things to all.


(Published in
Catholic Near East, 25:5, September 1999)