Monday, February 1, 2021

Monsignor Pope's 10 Hard Truths about 2020.

As 2020 A.D. ended, Monsignor Pope, from the Archdiocese of Washington, D.C., wrote two fantastic articles that not only gave some chronicle of the events of the past year, but also gave ten "hard truths" that we have come to see with 20/20 hindsight. I post his two articles-- written on 31 December, 2020, and 13 January, 2021-- here as one, both for your edification and as a kind of journal entry for myself so that, in case I do not interiorize these lessons, I will be given a reminder.

from: https://www.ncregister.com/blog/2020-vision
and: https://www.ncregister.com/blog/5-more-hard-truths

The year 2020 began with great hope and expectation. I distinctly remember welcoming in the new year just after the homily at our midnight Mass. Many remarked that because “20/20” is the term for perfect vision, the Lord would surely give us greater clarity and vision. We had no idea what we were saying!

Though I was in exceedingly poor health from January through mid-February, the year still began with great hope. The economy was roaring, unemployment was near zero, and the President’s State of the Union address brimmed with robust optimism. The annual pro-life march was invigorated by the first attendance of a sitting U.S. President. Although there was debate about immigration, border walls, Russian collusion, race, sex (the #MeToo movement) and whether the president was a hero or a demon, America seemed to be moving forward. Patriotism was strong, at least among conservative Americans.

As early as Jan. 9, though, there were reports of a mysterious viral pneumonia in Wuhan, China. The first case of COVID-19 reached our shores on Jan. 21. On Jan. 31, the World Health Organization (WHO) declared a public health emergency and by Feb. 2 the President had imposed restrictions on those traveling to the U.S. from China. Dire predictions of massive death tolls circulated throughout February (predictions which were later scaled back). By March 13, President Trump declared a national emergency and banned incoming travel from most of Europe.

Shutdowns and “stay-at-home” orders quickly followed in many states. The previously bustling economy screeched to a near halt with so many forced closures, and unemployment soared. Then, the unthinkable happened: Catholic priests were ordered to cease all public liturgies. Some bishops ordered churches locked, and a few even forbade the giving of sacraments under any circumstance. The crucial seasons of Lent and Easter were lost to the faithful. I cannot even begin to describe my dismay and shock at the cancellation of Mass. The year was off to an awful start, and it would only get worse with months of racial unrest and then a hotly contested election.

We need to remember the panic-stricken atmosphere in those early weeks of March, lest we be too severe in our judgments of those who had to make difficult decisions. But if 20/20 means perfect vision, we were certainly shown that we had hard lessons to learn and that we got a lot of things wrong. We were quick to entrust ourselves into the hands of professed experts, surrendering many of our rights as well as abandoning our religious duties and blessings.

Rather than merely chronicling what was surely the worst year in a long time, I would like to speak to some of the lessons we were taught. I propose to do this in two articles: this first one focuses on the social and political order while the next one will be on the responses in the Church.

 

Lesson 1: Fear can be coercive.

One of the most astonishing observations is the worldwide panic that has crippled us with fear. So intense is this fear that I cannot ascribe it simply to human means such as globalists or the media; it is surely demonic as well. Scripture attests to this:

Now since the children have flesh and blood, Christ too shared in their humanity, so that by His death He might destroy him who holds the power of death, that is, the devil, and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death (Hebrews 2:14-15).

Thus, Scripture teaches that the fear of death can hold us in bondage. Never before in most of our lifetimes has a fear of sickness and death so assailed us. Our parents, grandparents and other relatively recent ancestors went out daily into a world with far greater dangers than COVID-19. They faced smallpox, tuberculosis, polio and other life-altering and deadly illnesses. Despite this, they went to work every day, many in dangerous and/or unhealthy settings such as mines, mills and factories. They did not have antibiotics or many other of the medicines routinely available today. Yet they went forth. 

Today, the level of fear of a virus that kills less than one percent of its victims under the age of 65* is astounding to me. Media coverage explains part of it, but there is also something mysterious and demonic in the intensity of the fear. Because of it, many are all too willing to surrender freedoms to the heavy hand of the State.

The 20/20 vision granted us here is that fear can coerce us into accepting severe and even draconian measures to make us feel safe. We can argue endlessly about what preventive measures are needed and for how long. Prudent measures have their place, but never before in American history has there been such a lengthy and severe lockdown. We have had pandemics in the past, but we quarantined the sick and vulnerable, not the healthy and strong. 

Some 10 months into these severe measures, “cases” continue to rise; the goalposts keep moving, from a vague “flattening the curve” so as not to exceed hospital capacity, to now insisting on a COVID-free world before we can return to normal life (if even then). It is shocking to me that we have accepted for so long these severe measures in what was once called the land of the free and the home of the brave. Fear has us in its powerful grip, and I wonder, “When it will abate?”

In the Scriptures, God repeatedly commands the faithful not to be afraid. Notice, he commands this. He is not merely consoling the faithful. We are not to be afraid because he is near to deliver us. Perhaps this crushing fear is a result of widespread secularism and an absence of God in the hearts and minds of many. Whatever its full cause, it has made us vulnerable to manipulation. Life is important, but so is liberty. As Franklin wrote, “Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

 

Lesson 2: Other things and other people matter, too.

The COVID-19 crisis has an almost exclusive preoccupation with those who might get seriously ill or die from the virus. I am one of those predisposed to suffer serious illness from COVID-19 due to lifelong pulmonary weakness. Yes, my life and the lives of other vulnerable people matter, but so do the lives of millions who have been deprived of their livelihoods, schooling, sports, recreation, numerous life events and rites of passage, and even the ability to comfort dear friends and relatives during their final days. 

Many small business owners have lost everything they’ve worked for their entire lives. We are perfectly willing to see enormous economic and social costs borne by others, especially lower-wage workers who cannot “virtually” sweep floors or assemble products. 

Further, there is evidence that depression, addiction, domestic tension, and suicide have all increased. How do we regard their suffering? The metrics are less clear than the 300,000+ dead (from/with COVID-19). But clearly, tens of millions of Americans have seen their lives limited in significant and often devastating ways. I can only speak for myself, but as one of the “vulnerable” (who spent more than 11 days in the ICU with COVID-19), I can say that I am responsible for my health and I do not ask to be protected at such a high social and personal cost to my fellow Americans.

How do we balance all these competing interests? In the past, we quarantined the sick and vulnerable. Never before have we shut down the entire nation to protect a much smaller number. The balance is off; simply accusing people who raise this of not caring that people die is neither constructive nor true. All lives matter and the effects on everyone during this time of pandemic must be considered. We need better 20/20 vision.

 

Lesson 3: The ability to dissent is rapidly disappearing.

One of the most serious issues in terms of its widespread effect is the suppression of alternate views to the State and media narratives. Our 20/20 vision has supplied us with clear evidence that free speech is dying in our country. This has been widely noted on college campuses, but more recently we have seen it on the large social media platforms that ban or suppress voices not in agreement with mainstream media narrative. 

Posting any COVID-related information that does not agree with what media-approved experts assert could get one’s account shut down, or at the very least slapped with a warning label. The rather obvious suggestion that rioting, burning and looting were not good or appropriate responses to racial injustice, could result in similar measures. The media, along with social media platforms, exercise great power in what they report or do not report and in what posts they allow or actively suppress. 

The increasing suppression of writing and speech not in conformity with a particular narrative is a disturbing trend indeed. Vigorous debate about ideas has been the hallmark of the American scene. Free speech was once a pillar of liberalism, but this has radically changed. Dissenting views are now regarded by the left not merely as “wrong,” but as dangerous, necessitating their suppression so as not to “hurt” others. There is a growing range of views that are labeled hateful, “phobic,” “violent” or intolerant. Unfortunately, this trend only appears to be getting worse. With 20/20 vision this matter has become shockingly clear.

 

Lesson 4: Those who question are demonized.

There is always the temptation to dismiss one’s opponent on simply personal terms rather than via logical argumentation. Many are quick to label someone a bigot, racist, xenophobe, homophobe or religious zealot if he has a different point of view.

Regarding COVID-19, some have questioned if the numbers of those who have died are accurate; others point to the low death rate for those under 65; still others question if the shutdown “cure” is worse than the disease. Such questioners are very often simply dismissed as reckless or heartless, not caring that more than 300,000 have died. They are demonized as selfish and unconcerned with the welfare of their neighbor. There is return fire, too, wherein those who support mandates and shutdowns are described as brainwashed sheep or fearmongers.

The racial strife in our land during 2020 has similar parameters. One side is caricatured as filled with racist white supremacists guilty of using their white privilege to profit from systemic racism. The other side is vilified as obsessed with perpetual victimhood.

Somewhere we have lost the ability to have a real argument. Relativism and subjectivism have rendered everything personal; the objective truth is dismissed as non-existent. The year 2020 has brought this problem into clearer 20/20 focus.

 

Lesson 5: Respect for authority is plummeting.

In 2020, the government, journalists and scientists have all lost credibility to a significant degree among Americans. The unrelenting attacks on the current president from the media and the tone of press conferences has given 20/20 clarity to heavy bias in most media coverage. This has been a long trend, but in the past few years all pretense of fairness or commitment to reporting all the facts has been cast aside.

The politicization of everything, from science to sports, has not only divided us further but has made people cynical of everything they read or hear. Scientific experts have too easily been coopted to announce facts rather than to discover them. Calls to “follow the science” are met with deserved derision by many Americans who long ago realized that science has become highly politicized and is only to be followed when it serves desired views. It is a sad thing to behold — science should be stubbornly concerned with the facts and data, wherever they lead. This is seldom the case today, at least in the world of media reporting on science.

All of this has tended to undermine the respect Americans once had for science, government, and journalism. Add to this the fact that many do not believe the reported results of the November election. There is a broad cynicism that everything is agenda driven, and this has replaced respect and trust for leaders of all kinds.

This, too, is bad for our culture and has led to a situation in which many live in echo chambers in which everyone in our side is of a single mind and we all presume that the other side is lying to us. Whom can we trust? Even in the Church, Catholics have lost faith that the clergy is honestly sharing the truth with them.

There are so many other things I could mention but suffice it to say that we are in a dark and deeply divided place as a nation, and 2020 has brought this into 20/20 focus. In my second installment I would like to look at the Church’s response and see if we can find some 20/20 focus there as well. +++


In the first part of this reflection we reviewed the painful year of 2020, focusing on the social and political ramifications of the COVID-19 pandemic. This installment examines the Church’s response to the situation. Sadly, we didn’t handle things well, but I am hopeful that we have learned some valuable lessons. I am sympathetic to the fact that the initial reports on the potential impact of COVID-19 were dire. Nevertheless, given that hindsight is “20/20,” let’s look back at and examine the mistakes we made so that we can avoid them in the future.

First, we should not have completely suspended public Masses. While it may have been necessary in some (or maybe even many) cases, it was not necessary in every case. Even at the height of the pandemic shutdowns, meetings of 10 or fewer were still allowed in most areas. Early on, several dioceses completely suspended public Masses even though their governor still permitted gatherings of up to 250 people; others did so when 50 were still permitted by the governor.

Why was this done? If only 10 were permitted, then we should have celebrated Masses for 10 people, especially the most devout daily Mass attendees. Why close down entirely? Even when there were “stay-at-home” orders, a visit to a church or house of worship was still permitted in most regions. Why insist upon suspending all public celebrations of the Mass? We could have observed civil mandates while still celebrating Mass for some small number. Did some bishops think that parishes could not manage to adhere to the smaller numbers?

Even more egregiously, some pastors were instructed to lock their church entrances, barring the public from entering even for private prayer. Some bishops directed that Holy Communion and confession were not to be extended to anyone under any circumstances. This went far beyond what civil mandates required.

In my own diocese, thankfully, we were encouraged to keep our churches open for prayer, hear confessions, and hold Eucharistic Adoration, provided we did not exceed the mandated attendance limit. We had adoration every day and never exceeded the number. If there were too many people, some would wait outside until others left. When I celebrated my “private” Mass, I had three seminarians serving (all of whom resided in the rectory) and several religious sisters from our convent attended; all of them were “permitted” to receive Holy Communion. When several lay persons would quietly slip in, I would offer them Communion as well.

In all that time, we never exceeded the attendance limits set by the civil authorities or disregarded any of their policies. Ten to 15 people in a church that seats 700 is hardly a crowd!

Why were many dioceses stricter than even the secular leaders required? Was it fear of the virus? Was it fear of litigation? If shutdowns are imposed, we ought to be no stricter than is required by the secular leaders! If necessary, we should fight for our religious liberty to safely assemble, as some have already done.

Second, we were not as creative as we should have been in extending the sacraments to people outside of Masses and liturgies. Even if we had to limit the number of people inside our churches, why did we not try to get Holy Communion to people in other ways? The practice of giving Holy Communion outside of Mass is discouraged except for a serious reason. Well, a worldwide pandemic certainly seems like a pretty serious reason! Some priests tried such innovative solutions as parking lot Masses and drive-by Communion or confession. Others (like me) waited in the church on Sundays and then distributed Holy Communion to any of the individuals praying privately who requested it. It wasn’t hard, and again, we never disobeyed any of the rules put in place by civil authorities. Why were so many priests discouraged or forbidden from trying such solutions?

In my diocese, we were permitted to hear confessions provided that the screen was covered with a cloth, masks were worn, hand sanitizer was provided and the confessionals were regularly sanitized. In some dioceses, however, confessions were either outright forbidden or were required to be held maintaining a six-foot distance and out in the open, violating to some extent the right of the faithful to anonymity.

Were such things really necessary? Why did we restrict ourselves beyond what was required? We must learn through our 20/20 hindsight to do everything we can in the future to keep the sacraments available to God’s people, even if we cannot assemble in large numbers.

Third, we have overemphasized livestreamed and recorded Masses. Virtual is not real. Much has been made of the explosion of online connections that priests and parishes have made as a result of shutdowns and social distancing mandates. There is an aspect of this that is good: some meetings, Bible studies and classes can work well online. However, many have grown weary of endless online meetings and miss the community-building that comes from physical human interaction.

The word “virtual” means “sort of like, but not really.” For example, to say, “He went virtually crazy when he heard the news,” is to say that he was not actually crazy but kind of crazy. There is a place for livestreamed or recorded Masses, but they are no substitute for being physically present at Mass. You cannot receive Holy Communion online, or confess online, or have true fellowship online. You must actually be there; virtual doesn’t cut it.

There was also much talk about people making spiritual communion. This, too, has its place, but it is not a concept that should be emphasized when one can reasonably receive Holy Communion physically. There were even some Catholics who scolded others for having “spiritual gluttony” when they were rightly saddened at being denied the sacraments. They were told that they should be satisfied with livestreamed Masses and spiritual communion.

We have traditionally provided a televised Mass for the homebound, but as the pandemic restrictions are removed, we ought to discontinue all but one diocesan-sponsored Mass for shut-ins. Too many people have been heard to say that they prefer televised Mass because it’s so convenient to be able to stay home in their pajamas. This is wrong; they must attend Mass to actually receive sacraments. Our 20/20 vision must lead us to reasserting that virtual is neither the same nor as good as real.

Fourth, we squandered a crucial teaching moment. One of the great problems of the modern age is that many see no meaning to suffering and death. So meaningless does suffering seem to the modern world that euthanasia or physician-assisted suicide are proposed in order to alleviate it.

But as a Church, we were too fearful that the world would criticize us by saying, “You don’t care that people are dying.” Of course, that is not true — it is precisely because we do care that we try to give meaning and purpose to the suffering and death that inevitably come to all of us. In fact, our scriptural traditions teach us that suffering and ultimately death are among the most meaningful events of our lives! The fullness of our life is not here — it is in Heaven. On the subject of suffering, St. Paul said:

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, yet our inner self is being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary affliction is producing for us an eternal glory that is far beyond comparison. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:16-18).

If we are faithful, the day we die is the greatest and happiest day of our life because we leave this sometimes-insane world and go home to meet God in Heaven, where things make sense.

I remember lying in the Intensive Care Unit the first days of my COVID illness pondering the fact that I might well die. On 100% heavy oxygen and still struggling to overcome respiratory failure, I certainly had a natural fear of death, but I rested in the words of St. Paul, who said:

“For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. So what shall I choose? I do not know. I am torn between the two. I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better indeed. But it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain and will continue with all of you…” (Philippians 1:21-26).

I do not know what those who have no faith think about death, but do I know this: We must give them our vision that death is not the end, that our entire life in this world is an invitation to go higher and seek that which is above, not below (cf Colossians 3:1). God is offering something better, something higher. Death (as well as the suffering that points to it) is not the worst thing. This world is not our lasting home. Our goal is to be with God in Heaven. Suffering or dying from COVID-19 is not our greatest threat — dying in mortal sin is.

This leads to the final observation in this reflection.

Fifth, we conveyed the idea that the physical body is more important than the soul. By canceling Mass and denying Holy Communion and confession for such an extended period, we seemed to send the message that our bodies are more important than our souls. While it may have been reasonable to suspend large gatherings, we did not try hard enough to provide access to the sacraments in other ways.

The unprecedented shutdowns and mask mandates, the intrusive interviews and the disclosures from government health departments about COVID-19 patients demonstrated an intense focus on the possible threat to human life and wellbeing. Whatever your views on these matters and the degree to which they were necessary, they surely manifest an intense focus on the bodily threat of COVID-19. Would that people everywhere had such focus on the disease of sin and the deadly and eternal effects of mortal sin! Imagine if people were willing to take drastic measures to prevent the spread of sin and the giving of scandal. An old song from the 1950s has this line: “Everybody’s worried about that atom bomb, but no one seems worried about the day my Lord will come.”

It is a grave concern to me as a pastor that a significant number of people got the message that the sacraments are not that essential. As the thinking goes, you might have to risk your health to go buy food or liquor or to engage in a protest, but receiving the sacraments is not important enough to risk getting sick. Never mind that there are few reported incidents of Catholics contracting COVID-19 at Mass.

To date, only one-third of those who were attending Mass before March 2020 have returned to Mass and the sacraments. If the plague were to end tomorrow, I am doubtful that 100% would suddenly return. Many got the message loud and clear: Sacraments just aren’t that important. Of course, the problem is that sacraments are essential, and that is why the Lord gave them to us. They are food and medicine for our souls! “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you” (John 6:53).

We are going to have to work very hard to undo the message many received and summon them back to the sacraments with a sense of both joy and alarm, with encouragement and warning.

So here are five lessons we were taught by 2020 and which we learned via “20/20” hindsight. The uniting factor of too many of these is that we as a Church weren’t there for God’s people when they needed us. We had little to say other than to refer them to the media and the folks wearing white lab coats. While we did significant virtual outreach, for too many, finding the church door locked and the rectory shuttered was a real countersign.

There are many wonderful exceptions to this: priests and parishes that were creative, that were out and about in the community with Rosary and Eucharistic processions, that celebrated outdoor Masses, and so forth. But too many of us were hunkered down, giving the impression that the Church doesn’t really have much to offer during a crisis and isn’t all that relevant.

May we never allow this to happen again! We are, by the gospel of Jesus Christ, the keeper of meaning, the giver of hope and the herald of courage. We should have been a shining light, but at least collectively, I fear we were hidden under a bushel basket. We waited to hear what the experts would tell us and sometimes begged the local authorities to allow us to reopen and to deem us “essential.”

Afterword: As the pandemic restrictions begin to lift, does your parish have an evangelization plan that is more than “Let’s hope they come back?” We’re going to have to do better than that if we ever hope to rebuild our devastated numbers. People need Jesus. They need the medicine of the sacraments and the formation of the Holy Liturgy. What are you and your parish ready to do to rebuild God’s flock? In my next article I will share a plan that my parish has used in the past and intend to use in the spring, and which I hope will benefit yours as well.