Twelfth Sunday C, June 20, 2004

"To carry the cross" is a cliché we use to cover experiences that range from suffering the common cold to enduring life’s most bitter afflictions and heaviest blows. In most cases, however, it has become a religious phrasing of its secular equivalent, ‘to bite the bullet,’ and as such, it’s sometimes hard to draw from it any other application. Yet our involvement in what is known today as a cultural war may lend a new application of this too-familiar yet often depreciated commandment of our Lord: deny yourself and take up the daily cross.

I think one can safely say without casing much surprise that our culture is in decline. In other words, things as they are now, with their admixture of both good and bad, are not to remain. There’s a rapid coarsening of our culture that’s being foisted upon us, whether we like it or not. No matter the degree of indignity, no matter the protest and counter movements, the continued decline will, so it seems, continue on. This rather pessimistic view is not contradicted by the fact that there are two camps of warriors engaged in this cultural war. We know well the ‘liberals’ versus the ‘conservatives.’ We know that there are those who attempt to maintain some standard of decency and courtesy while there are others who are bent upon vulgarity, violence, sexual degradation and who seem to have no qualms about imposing this refuse upon us. The difficulty in making this neat distinction between opposing factions is that it is not exactly certain what determines the divide. It’s not just that there are those who are pious and those who are profane, or (in political terms, republican or democrat). Rather, it appears that the majority of people on both sides of this boundary share in fact a common malady that may be phrased as ‘the resistance to admit restrictions on freedom.’ Put another way, no one–or at least few–is willing to impose enactments that curb or forbid activities for fear that this is in some way a violation of democracy and a threat to liberty generally. We, on both sides, fear denying the right to choose. This one thing above all else has come to be the only universal, sacred and inalienable right, the one good above every other good. The highest ideal of modern society is the unobstructed power of choice. We have all come to believe that we are more free the more we are emancipated from constraints. Even our most cherished moral traditions may have to be sacrificed if we are to preserve our right to be free. (Thus, for example, we can have putative Catholics who support a right to have an abortion. Even our faith, in that warped way of thinking, may have to give way to goddess Choice.) Isn’t this the reason why people on the "good side" of the divide are often hesitant about taking a proactive part in stopping the advancement some evils? Why don’t we get more involved in the pro-life causes, why don’t we sign petitions to stop legislation that would redefine marriage. Isn’t it because we fear we are imposing our ‘views,’ our ‘opinions’ on others; that we are taking away their freedom and imposing ‘our own’ morality on them? Surely no one wants to forfeit his own autonomy. We rightly resist any alien power that would usurp our person, family, country, culture or our faith. We rebel against arbitrary or extrinsic restraints. But our modern lust for freedom, for the right of choice, includes the presumption that all constraints are arbitrary and extrinsic and that there is no such thing as a natural or intrinsic constraint.

In teaching our homeschoolers this past year, I made a rather lengthy tirade on the subject of the binding force of the commandments. The gist of it all / was that so long as one views God’s laws of dos and don’ts as impositions coming from without, imposed upon us, constricting, cramping and restraining us, not only will we fail to appreciate the commandments as coming from a loving God, but will resent, rebel and lash out against this foreign intrusion into our cherished inner sanctuary of freedom–no matter if that ‘tyrant’ should take the form of parent, teacher, church, or even God Himself. But, what if freedom itself can’t be had, or can’t be maintained without some constraints–what then? Our present Pope in speaking about moral issues always goes back to a fundamental point: when we speak about morality we are speaking about human beings, about human nature, and therefore about acting not just in any old way we may choose, but acting according to what we are, according to how we humans are made. If there is a law built within us, and we ignore it, vilify it, refuse it, we suffer the consequence of diminishment of that very freedom we were so assiduously seeking. The freedom to choose anything and everything must include the freedom of chaos. Some things then have to be suppressed; some choices have to be foregone. To be free–in the words of our media advertisers–"some restrictions may apply." There are controls that have to be engaged if one is to be punctual, for example, or agreeable, honest, respectable, knowledgeable, and proficient in some skill. By accepting the constraints of the social and moral tradition, one becomes a person of character, rather than one who is carried by the whim of his every appetite and desire. Choice, as we say, has to have its own proper object: we must choose not anything but a Good Thing, and, ultimately, God and life eternal. This is a choosing for a freedom that excludes the bondages of sin, hell, devils and the ever-present torture of a violated conscience. This limitation within choosing is necessary because we have been constructed in a certain way as human beings and therefore have to live in a certain way in order to be free.

This has something to do with our Gospel injunction to carry the cross. There’s a street in the Christian world called Calvary Way. It’s a road that one might not choose on his own without some prompting. It’s the way of decisive Christianity, and of the willful defeat of evil proclivities, of surrender of the reflexive, ingrained tendency to kick up one’s heels at the very regulatory ways of life that alone bring happiness and freedom. It’s the yoke of Christ and the commandments of God.

"If anyone wishes to follow me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me." There is the prescription for freedom, happiness, for social order, and the kingdom of heaven.