On Public Sinners and Apparent Saints

There's a lot of people whose preferred method of evangelization looks like this:

Son of man, I have appointed you a sentinel for the house of Israel. When you hear a word from my mouth, you shall warn them for me.

If I say to the wicked, You shall surely die—and you do not warn them or speak out to dissuade the wicked from their evil conduct in order to save their lives—then they shall die for their sin, but I will hold you responsible for their blood. If, however, you warn the wicked and they still do not turn from their wickedness and evil conduct, they shall die for their sin, but you shall save your life.

But if the just turn away from their right conduct and do evil when I place a stumbling block before them, then they shall die. Since you did not warn them about their sin, they shall still die, and the just deeds that they performed will not be remembered on their behalf. I will, however, hold you responsible for their blood. If, on the other hand, you warn the just to avoid sin, and they do not sin, they will surely live because of the warning, and you in turn shall save your own life. (Ezekiel 3:17-21)

And of course, given the Scriptural warrant, there's something real and important to this. There's a time and a place for a stark prophetic witness, for a determined denunciation of real evil, of real wickedness. We look for it in the dark days of the Third Reich, and are encouraged to discover Dietrich von Hildebrand, the papal encyclicals Mit Brennender Sorge and Summi Pontificatus, the writings and public addresses of Cardinal von Galen, the heroic work of Monsignor Hugh O'Flaherty in rescuing thousands from the Nazis, and more. Public witness against evil and for the good matters. It matters in the time of a great evil, and it matters to those who come after, who look back and see how to do it when they confront the evils of their own times.

But what happens when the evils become smaller, become more everyday, become fashionable sins and vices, become faults and falls of ourselves, our immediate neighbors, our friends and family, our own? What then?

Caritas in veritate. Truth in charity. Both, inextricably intertwined. And that demands discernment. That demands a recognition that we are to be rock solid in the truth, yes; we are to study it, adhere to it, assent to the teachings of the Church on faith and morals, and work assiduously to understand and accept those that we find most challenging. We must hold and defend all that the Catholic Church holds and defends.

But when it comes to proclaiming it to the people, we have to take a lesson from the divine pedagogy of the Scriptures. God came to the people of a given time period and spoke to them in ways they understood, in language that they understood. He is a perfectly just and merciful judge. His justice takes into account our weakness, ignorance, and concupiscence. His mercy provides remedies for them, and offers a way home even after the umpteenth fall. And more: When Jesus comes, He has a very particular method. He is gentle with the weak and the broken.

"A bruised reed he will not break,
a smoldering wick he will not quench,
until he brings justice to victory.
And in his name the Gentiles will hope.” (Matthew 12:20-21)

He is firm, even stentorian, with the strong, the purportedly righteous, with all those who should know better. He calls out in the strongest terms those who hold themselves to be faithful adherents to the Law, and eats with tax collectors and prostitutes.

So apply all this to the present day.

Most people have a very clear idea of what they're doing wrong by Catholic standards. They're relieved to be loved by people who believe they're doing wrong, relieved not to have that sin be the first or only thing we Catholics see when we look at them, relieved that religious people can engage them as people rather than some part of their life that our faith tells us isn't right.

Also, the Church is in such a deep mess these days that Catholics leading with making clear what we don't condone doesn't often make sense to many people inside or outside the Church. Far better we lead with a smile (as Mother Teresa said), friendly conversation, sincere interest in the other person and their loves and lives, and a rueful acknowledgment that these days, we all done screwed up.

There's certainly a time and a place for public witness against evil--stand against abortion; stand against human trafficking; stand against racism; and so forth. But usually when we're one on one with people, what's called for is simple love and gratitude for the other person. They almost always know where we believe they're going wrong. We don't have to say it. Simply not giving assent to things that are wrong can speak louder than a thousand homilies--see Thomas More for more.

Yeah, it's a mess of a discernment process. I think, though, that Jesus' example tended toward the "eat with the public sinners; chew out the publicly righteous" model of evangelization. The outcasts and disreputable in a society are reminded of their sin by the society itself, by their daily existence; the self-righteous, respectable folks have their vices cloaked by an approving society, overlooked by their peers, and their pride upheld.

The pendulum is certainly swinging in our society as to what's approved and what's disapproved, and what is respectable and what's not. But I think most people are abundantly clear on Catholic teaching on the crucial things; they're not nearly so clear on their intrinsic dignity, God's unfailing love for them even though they sin, and that any religious person could find them worthy of love, let alone time, attention, and friendliness.

And then one last subtlety--we're meant to be witnesses at all times and places by our love, not necessarily by an obvious proclamation of the Gospel. We are called to live lives in this world, we lay people, called to sometimes merely be doing a task, merely to be a customer, merely to be a patient. As Simcha Fisher once pointed out (if memory serves), we are meant to be salt and light in the world, which means not so much salt that people gag on the Good News and not so much light that people are blinded, sunburned, scarred. We are to lend savor to life and be a leading kindly light, instead.

We are to be innocent as doves and wise as serpents; to be servants of the truth, but also of Logos, of reason, and of the Hagia Sophia, of holy wisdom, as well. We are called to be fishers of men. That means there will be times to be silent as well as to speak, times to bait the hook and leave it in the water while we hold very still, waiting patiently on the Holy Spirit. He makes converts, not us.

In other words--when in doubt, just love. When in doubt, live well. When in doubt, hold on to the fullness of the faith, and share only as much truth as a person can hear without tuning out, giving up, or despairing.