Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Rules, Judgment And Understanding

I've prattled repeatedly on this blog about the need for some amount of judgmentalism in our lives and how objective morality is a good thing. This weekend, I spent time with representatives across the San Diego Diocese discussing how the Church can better minister to divorced people. It was enlightening to me in many ways. As usual, I'm pressed for time, so this will be necessarily terse.

Rules, judgment and objective morality are crucial. Without them, there is no ideal for which to strive. All of us fall short of our ideals every day, no matter how hard we try. Just because people fall short, it doesn't mean we need to beat them up or ditch our ideals. That was the message of the meetings this weekend. You can have love and judgment at the same time. That's the underlying proposition behind "love the sinner, hate the sin."

Since we all fail, we can all have some understanding of our fellow, fallen humans when they fail, even if they fail in a way different from our own. At the same time, we can still affirm the ideal to which we all should strive, that of a Christ-like life. Throughout the whole discussion, which lasted 6-7 hours, we discussed how to love and support those experiencing divorce, both adults and children. While we talked about how devastating it was, we did not talk about blame or guilt. Instead, we focused on how to make their lives easier and show them that they were still loved and valued as they tried to pick up the pieces of their lives.

It made me proud to be a Catholic.

And then, of course, we discussed how to oppress gays and women, but that goes without saying.

9 comments:

Ilíon said...

... or, to put it bluntly, you all discussed how to encourage more divorces. You know, just like the Mainline Protestants did a generation ago.

K T Cat said...

Too late for that. Prior to the meeting, data was collected from several parishes. People are getting divorced and then leaving the Church because they don't feel welcome. We lose the ability to reach them and offer them help because they bail out. Showing them love isn't going to increase the divorce rate appreciably. No one drops an atomic bomb on their life for effectively tertiary reasons. Also, there was a parallel meeting that discussed how to prevent divorces in the first place.

Jedi said...

Your post reminded me to pray for two couples who are separated.

Ilíon said...

"No one drops an atomic bomb on their life for effectively tertiary reasons."

How many human beings -- and more to the point, how many women -- do you know? People blow up their own, and others' lives all the time, and for reason at all.

"People are getting divorced and then leaving the Church because they don't feel welcome."

Whether or not the issue is divorce, "I don't feel welcome" is just the rationalization that people use because they know that can get sympathy if they use that one.

Look, I'm certinly not going to claim that the RRC (*) in America ought to go back to the common practice of the '50s and early '60s, by which persons who were not-Kennedys, and who thus couldn't afford a huge bribe ... I mean, who didn't have the means to convince the heirarchy to agree that they never were married in the first place, were made social pariahs. My parents were friends with a divorced-and-remarried Catholic couple, and even being a kid, I picked up that they were not happy being pariahs.

It just seems to me to be rather foolish to go from the former extreme -- and accompanying hypocrisy -- by which divorce is "impossible" (but annulments are free, so to speak) to the other extreme, by which divorce is "no biggee".

How has treating divorce as being a purely private matter of concern to one's church worked out for the Mainline Protestants? Or, of late, for the non-Mainlines?

(*) with which, God be praised, I am not affiliated

Ilíon said...

My parents divorced when I was about 16. At the time, I mostly blamed my father; with maturity and experience, I blame my mother a bit more than I blame him.

But, regardless of blame, it would have been better for all of us had they not.

K T Cat said...

Ilion, I'm so sorry for your loss. I totally agree, it would have been better for you had they not. That's almost always the case.

Anonymous said...

In my limited experience, most people don't "feel welcome" because they feel overwhelmingly guilty. It's usually less about someone else judging you than judging yourself. Divorce has become so mainstream and commonplace, I think few people really think twice about it when they meet someone who is divorced.

I found that when synagogues to which I belonged went through the tap dance to make people who don't show up with any regularity "feel welcome," those of us who did go regularly wound feeling like the red-headed stepchild. (Except one synagogue -- they had a very good balance.)

What people who don't "feel welcome" want? A parade and confetti? "Congratulations on getting here!"? The only time I went to a place of worship where I didn't feel welcome, it was one where NO ONE SAID ANYTHING TO ME. No "good morning," no smile, no nuttin'. That was enough to ensure I didn't return. Friendly faces and smiles do more than anything to make people feel welcome -- and then moving on to extending friendships ensure committing.

BTW, I knew someone who went through an annulment with/through the RCC, and it was hellish -- and expensive.

Ilíon said...

Anonymous: "In my limited experience, most people don't "feel welcome" because they feel overwhelmingly guilty. It's usually less about someone else judging you than judging yourself."

Exactly; and that's part of what I means about "I don't feel welcome" being a rationalization.

"The only time I went to a place of worship where I didn't feel welcome, it was one where NO ONE SAID ANYTHING TO ME."

I would LOVE that. In the "low church" Protestant churches I might be caught in, it's almost a law: When you see a new face, show him how "welcome" he is

Anonymous said...

It's funny, it's not the overwhelming, "HI! WELCOME! WHEN WILL YOU BE BACK! WE LOVE YOU!" that makes me feel welcome, it's the little things. My old synagogue had one person who would reach out to a new face. Frequently, a new face would be invited to give a Torah blessing, in a subtle way that they'd be comfortable saying, "No," if they felt uncomfortable doing so. And the Rabbi would say hello during the post service kiddush.