by Mark Bailey
This blog entry is primarily diaristic in nature and I hope my readers find some truth and encouragement in the recounting of an unpleasant encounter I have recently had.
Recently my superior (I am a Dominican tertiary novice) recommended that I take my letter addressed to the bishop (regarding the Synodal Way in the U.S. and our diocese of Lafayette) to our spiritual advisor, a Dominican friar, for counseling. I asked my friend and superior if she had found anything in particular with the letter with which she took issue but never received an answer. Nonetheless, I requested a meeting with our advisor and met with him soon after.
Click here to read (and add your name) – Letter to Bishop of Lafayette
Click here to read (and add your name) – Letter to Archbishop of Indianapolis
This was the first time I have spoken with him outside the tightly structured monthly meetings we have, so I knew nothing about him personally and he was likewise in the dark about me. From the moment I was led to his office by the receptionist I felt very awkward. I broke the ice by asking, “So, what’s your story?” I didn’t want to just get right down to business but rather that we would get to know one another a little so that perhaps the controversial topics discussed in my letter could be viewed in a rational light, as coming from a friend, not some radical nutcase. I failed, I think. He told me a little about himself, merely his educational background. I never really know where to start with new friends (I make it a principle that I treat everyone I meet for the first time as if they are my best friend and go from there) so I laid out in brief (for me this means about 10 minutes of narration) my life story, how I ditched college after 3 semesters to join the military, then was assigned air traffic control for my military job, how that put me in California where I met my wife, how I didn’t re-enlist because I had no desire to continue military service now that I had a fledgling family to consider, how my skills led me to civil ATC here at Purdue U and how meanwhile I discerned a call to the Dominican life.
This being accomplished with none of the interrupting or follow up questions I was expecting and no other introductory information was evidently forthcoming from the father, I awkwardly moved to my letter. Now, I’ll be the first to admit I wish I had an eidetic memory and could relay information verbatim, but alas, I must speak in vague generalities as to the sequence of events with only few quotations sticking out clearly. His initial thoughts were no different than the ones he expressed in response to the email I sent him requesting to speak in the first place, “I suggest you tone the letter way down or not send it at all especially if you want the bishop to take it seriously and not label you immediately as a fanatic and ignore the letter.” In person his choice of words were, “It’s way too long and sounds like you have an axe to grind.” At the time I didn’t respond to these suggestions; I feel I am not very good at speaking in conversation, I prefer to listen to the other and respond. But had I the gift of a swift tongue I might have rebutted that, “Are we not called to be fanatic for Christ?” and “To speak with any softer tone would seem to me to be disingenuous.”
Now, before I continue, I want to clarify that I do not wish to defame this person nor do I feel any animosity for him. Perhaps you, my dear readers, agree with him. If so, please help me here.
As I wrote in my letter, I want to pursue Truth. If I am wrong I want to be convinced of the fact so I can repent of my error. But I am also a man of conviction, the strength of which grows day to day by the grace of God and will not change my mind on a matter by a groundless, “you’re wrong” from the crowd.
As the meeting continued I tried to explain my reasoning and was largely met by silence from the other. Now, listening with calm demeanor is a good tact, indeed it helped me keep my cool talking about that which I feel strongly, but in retrospect I am left with the sense that it was more the tact of someone who just wants to hurry up and be done with this annoying encounter and get back to the business of the day. A feeling that is supported by the parting comments made; we had gotten to the topic of mask wearing and to forestall any counter argument to the claim that Asian countries are more habituated to mask wearing and this explains why they have lower reports of seasonal influenza I was told that he needed to get back to work and shown the door.
I found this really to be quite a shame as this was also the first time I detected any trace of passion or interest other than an hour earlier in the conversation when I was struggling to complete the phrase “the blood of the martyrs…” and he emphatically supplied the end, “seed of the church.” Here I had hoped to strike a chord, surely talking about the saints and martyrs would elicit more commentary, but my recounting of the martyrdom of St. Jose del Rio was met with yet more silence. My purpose in bringing up this topic wasn’t even to get a shoe in the door with this man, but to make the point that we in the church rightly perceive that her numbers are dwindling and everywhere it is the business of the day to drum up more customers, yet nothing less than true martyrdom, red or white, will move anyone to join the Church.
I remain convinced that we should send this letter to His Excellency (I say we because CUP would like as many people as possible to sign the letter before we send it to give it more weight, so it can’t be so easily ignored as the ravings of a single fanatic), but the friar gave me nothing really substantial to consider so this is not surprising. I did leave marveling at the total absence of heroic virtue from this man. Perhaps I am blind to the virtues he surely does possess, indeed he shared so little of himself I can make no claim other than I spoke for an hour and received only the shallowest of reproofs. Perhaps it is simply my youth which emboldens me so and I should not be so surprised to find my zeal lacking in older men, but I keep thinking of the Gospel, the part where Jesus says he came to set the world on fire and oh, how he longed that it were already ablaze (Luke 12:49). Also the line from revelation when He says it is better to be hot or cold; the lukewarm shall be spat out (Revelation 3:15-19).
If my feeling that nothing except true martyrdom will grow the church is correct, then I want to be a martyr. I don’t think most of us here in decadent America will have the opportunity to face true martyrdom, although you can already see examples of this from good men being prosecuted under the FACE act for merely praying outside abortion chambers. We have also already seen good and holy priests be cast aside by their bishops for getting too fiery at the pulpit. But again, isn’t zeal good? Doesn’t it light the world on fire? Who has ever been inspired to great courage by discussions of financial stability or promises of an easy life?
My encounter the other day reminds me that largely we have lost the art of conversation, at least of discussing controversial topics with those whom we do not know and disagree with. Conversion is always the work of the Holy Spirit and so I am not too saddened by not making any real connection with my spiritual advisor. I am hopeful that we can enter into true dialogue and discuss our differences and perhaps even come to an agreement in truth. But only for the sake of truth. To be a Martyr is to not ever concede the truth, even unto death. Viva Christo Rey.