Yesterday, Blase Cupich was formally installed as archbishop for the archdiocese of Chicago, and gave his first “official” homily. The day before, at a vigil prayer service with a greater number of politicians, he gave another homily. Taking the two of them as his first official words as archbishop, I’m disappointed.
The vigil homily.
He begins with customary thank-yous and welcomes (with a bonus pro-Native-American statement that their greetings are always “from one heart to another”), then moves into addressing “his agenda” — starting with a humble-brag that, of course, ” I know it is a disaster for me to have my own agenda” but rather “the agenda has to be God’s, which is beyond our imagining and our abilities.” Thanks, Bishop Cupich, for telling us that anything controversial you do or say comes from God, so we’d better just suck it up because you know better. (Yeah, I know, it’s mean-spirited, but at the same time, this “my agenda/God’s agenda” distinction just didn’t sit well with me.)
Then he speaks about Ezekiel. I don’t know if this was due to the day’s scripture reading, or self-selected, or both (that is, if the readings for a service like this may be chosen, and he picked this one), but he references the “dryness” of this passage from Ezekiel, and says this “dryness” exists among us, in the experiences of the elderly and the sick questioning their worth, their sense of purpose and their faith; in the homeless, the underemployed working poor; and in the successful business owner working long hours — as well as pastors and those who “serve in public life” do to the enormous challenges they face. But ” the Lord of Creation is with us, is walking through this dryness with us, the dryness we face each and every day as leaders.” And even among the dry bones, there is still life, and
All that is needed is for the prophet, the leader in their midst, to speak in a way that inspires, to speak to the deep yearnings of the people we serve, because it is God who is keeping alive their legitimate aspirations, even when there seems to be no hope.
So far, this is fine.
Then Cupich says that “in moments of deep disagreement” we should not “shy away from stating our position or making our point” — but he then says we need “civil discourse,” and makes his pitch that
Recent studies on the involvement of young people in religion and public life bear out a common factor that discourages their participation – the harsh rhetoric and lack of comity and civility within each group and in the way leaders in both groups treat each other. . . . It is not surprising that parishioners, citizens and the public become uneasy and disaffected with community and public life when they see leaders speak in ways that incite fears rather than inspire hope.
Still all a bit bland (except it does reinforce the stories that he didn’t support pro-life protests, and didn’t want to rock the boat with liberal supporters or public officials).
Next up:
There is a dryness in many people’s lives because they have little experience of being connected in society.
So he thanks all the “groups,” including labor unions, “government programs” and civic groups. And then he lists people of particular concern: “the mother needing prenatal and postnatal care and protection for herself and her child,” ex-cons, addicts, parents seeking quality education for their children. And he says “God’s desire to bring about this sense of belonging is present in the aspirations of every migrant and immigrant . . . . The work of comprehensive immigration reform is not important because it is on my agenda, but because it is on God’s.” (Sorry, but these people left communities in which they did “belong” to improve their economic well-being, so don’t tell me they’re seeking “belonging.”) Only after his paen to the immigrant does he mention gang violence, and here the contrast is clear: with respect to immigration, God demands that our legislators open our borders; with respect to gang violence, “there are no easy answers” but he’s happy to cheer-lead others trying to do something.
And that’s about it: he then goes back to generalities and cheerleading about the city of Chicago.
The installation homily.
This time, he starts right off with a hat tip to immigrants: the feast day is the name of his home church, which his immigrant grandparents helped establish, so this day “gives me a chance to recognize all immigrants.” This really feels forced.
The gospel reading is about Jesus walking on water: the disciples are fishing, it’s stormy, he comes to them, walking on the water, Peter is inspired and gets out of the boat, says, “give me the power to walk on the water, too,” and does so, until he becomes afraid and starts to sink.
What does he do with it? He pulls out three key themes. “We are to join Christ in seeking out, inviting, and accompanying, by abiding with those to whom he sends us.”
Seeking out: Jesus’s walk across the waters is a seeking out of the disciples, or, more metaphorically, of “the troubled, those who are lost.” What’s his motivation?
Jesus, we are told, has been on the mountain, in the quiet intimacy of prayer with his Father. That experience of sharing life with the Father is what moves him, prompts him to go out and seek others, so that they too may have this life.
Oh, yuck. Please tell me that Cupich does actually believe that Jesus is God! Because this sounds so fluffy and much more in the realm of “Jesus was an inspired prophet” — as if this prayer experience, rather than the full knowledge, from the beginning, of his ministry, was what motivated him. He then compares Jesus’s “drive and enthusiasm” to a beloved teacher correcting grammar on her deathbed.
Cupich continues:
We face in our day the formidable task of passing on the faith to the next generation, of evangelizing a modern and sometimes skeptical culture, not to mention inspiring young people to serve the Church as priests and religious. It all seems so daunting, as daunting as walking on water. We are at sea, unsteady in our approach faced with these concerns. Catechists and educators are on the front line of this struggle. So, too, parents and grandparents wonder if they are going to be the last Catholics in their family. Likewise bishops and priests find that the Good News is increasingly difficult to proclaim in the midst of great polarization in church and society.
Jesus tells all of us today to go back to where our journey of faith began, to be in touch with the joyful experience of being transformed by the intimacy God offers us, to be willing to share it with the next generation. Young people have always been attracted to authenticity of life, where words match deeds. Let’s not be afraid to let our young people know about our life with God and how it began.
So, fine, except that I’m not sure what he means by “great polarization” that prevents proclaiming the Good News.
He then throws in a mention of outreach to victims of sexual abuse by priests. I suppose it had to be done, though it doesn’t really fit.
Inviting: I’m not really sure what the difference between “seeking out” and “inviting” is but it doesn’t really matter; this section of the homily is actually about responding to the invitation, leaving “our comfort zone” to “take an entirely new step in our faith journey, both personally and as a community.” This is all fairly vague. Personally, we are to end “episodic Sunday Mass attendance” and “change habitual bad behavior.” And the bishops’ conference is inviting ” our nation to be what it has always promised to be, to protect the vulnerable, poor and weak, to treat immigrants with justice and dignity, to respect life and to be good stewards of creation.”
Perhaps this is harmless. Or perhaps he is signalling that he is planning on Big Changes.
Accompanying: just as Jesus gets into the boat, so to he comes to be with us. (Again, a bit of de-deifying Jesus: “I have always thought that it took more courage for Jesus to get into that boat with those disciples than for Peter to get out of it to walk on water. There was fear, doubt, jealousy even anger in that boat – a lot of unresolved conflicts as a therapist might say.” Ewww.) This last section of his homily is pretty standard stuff.
So there you have it.
I know there’s the school of thought that says, “young people these days leave the Catholic Church because they think it’s too focused on pelvic issues, so if we just shut up about that, and tell them explicitly or by our seeming indifference, that we’ve removed sexual sins from the catechism, happy days are here again.” Is that his plan?
Or is it all about the Hispanics, putting political advocacy for open borders at the top of the list because he’s written off everyone else?
Bottom line: I’m disappointed.