Jen’s Journal

As most people probably know, there has been much controversy lately regarding Notre Dame’s decision to invite President Obama as this year’s commencement speaker.  While I haven’t been following the story intensely, I’ve gathered from the headlines that there have been protests and public statements from people on both sides of the issue.  In addition, the former US Ambassador to the Vatican, Mary Ann Glendon, has declined to accept the college’s prestigious Laetare Medal for service to the Church and society because of the college’s decision regarding Obama.

Though on a much smaller scale,  this type of situation regarding a campus speaker whose views are opposed to that of the Catholic Church recently occured at my alma mater Providence College, as well.  As one of my friends pointed out, the Whispers in the Loggia blog posted an entry yesterday about this issue.  It seems that a student group had invited former Congressman Tom Tancredo, a proponent of aggressive controls on immigration, to speak on campus, but the college decided at the last minute that the former congressman would not be allowed to speak due to his beliefs on immigration which are directly opposed to the teachings of the Catholic Church and the Bishop of Providence.  Tancredo has publicly spoken out against the Pope on this issue, but he is not himself a Catholic, at least not any more.

These two cases are but a few examples of the types of situations that have been arising all across the country as Catholic institutions grapple with the issue of free speech and the importance of upholding Catholic doctrine.  For what it’s worth, I’d like to offer my personal take on the issue:

That a Catholic school finds it important to publicly uphold a Catholic teaching is commendable and reassuring.  If we can’t count on Catholic institutions to promote Catholic teaching, then who can we count on?  That being said, I wonder if preventing speakers with views contrary to those of the Catholic church – particularly if those speakers are not themselves Catholic – is the proper way to do this.  Because if we prevent one person from speaking at a college due to their views, where do we draw the line?  Should we not only reject the voice of the politician but also that of the actor who stars in a morally questionable movie or believes in a faith opposed to the Catholic faith?  Should we refuse to hire non-Catholic professors at Catholic universities?  Can we not sponsor interfaith dialogue events?  Should we only care about views on moral issues or are doctrinal issues important as well?

Ultimately, it seems to me that there must be some way for Catholic schools to both be open to the views of those who are opposed to the Church while also making it it clear that the school and Catholic teaching does not agree with views of that speaker.  What ever happened to the Dominican tradition of disputatio?  Can’t we support free speech while also promoting Catholic Truth?

During the Easter Vigil last night, something unusual caught my attention.  In the reading from Genesis about Abraham and Isaac, the boy Isaac, upon reaching the place for sacrifice, says to his father, “Here are the fire and the wood, but where is the sheep for the holocaust?”  To what must have been a heart-wrenching question, Abraham evasively replies, “God himself will provide the sheep for the holocaust.”

Right after this interchange, Abraham goes on to build the altar of sacrifice and we are told that he arranged the wood on it and tied up his son, ready to slaughter him until God intervened.  What we aren’t told in this scene, however, and what I am most intrigued by, is what else Isaac had to say.  That is, surely Isaac must have questioned his father further when Abraham began to tie him up and place him on the altar of sacrifice.  Surely he must have pleaded for his life, not understanding why his father would do something so horrible.  How could Abraham listen to the cries of his son and yet still prepare to slaughter him?  How did Abraham subdue him?

In the case of Jesus, we know the agony that the Son experienced as he approached his impending death.  He even sweat blood.  But what about Isaac?

                                                              

I love this image by Fra Angelico of St. Dominic clinging to the cross.  In fact, it’s probably one of my favorite of Fra Angelico’s paintings, and it has been especially helpful to me in my prayer these past few weeks.  I think what I love best is that Dominic isn’t sitting in front of the crucified Christ looking up at him or even bowing down in front of him (both perfectly good and fine ways to spend time with the crucified Christ).  Rather, he is clinging to the cross as if it is an extension of Christ himself.  It’s as if Dominic is so longing for Christ that he is clinging to that which is closest to him, that which also happens to be the object of his greatest torment and his greatest triumph.  He is returning Christ’s love, demonstrated and effected on the cross, with his own tender love for Christ.  He is embracing Christ and whatever following Christ might require.  No matter what happens in life, we can’t erase the cross and all that it stands for.  We can’t erase God’s act of love, God’s solidarity with us, God’s presence in the midst of suffering, and the hope that God has ensured through the triumph of the cross.

On this Good Friday, maybe take a moment or two to look at Christ on the cross, to touch Christ on the cross, to embrace Christ on the cross, to long for Christ.  Rest in God’s love and allow that love to stir up a response within you.  Don’t so much focus on the pain of the passion, but rather focus on the love.