By Paolo Gambi
(From The Catholic Herald, december 2nd 2005)
As a young Italian Catholic journalist who has worked in England, I sometimes wonder if you English Catholics realise how proud you should be of the tradition of “lay pride” that runs in your veins. Do you know that your model of laity could be the solution for our Italian religious problems?
Nobody in Italy much cares for the adjective “lay”. Unbelievers treat it as a synonym for atheist. Believers are keen on the word “clericalist”. Beneath our shining Italian sun, there is a depressingly black-or-white vision of religion.
On one side, there is the “white” vision painted by priests, monks, bishops and nuns, who seem to have exclusive possession of everything that smells of faith; on the other side, the “black” depicted by secularists who do not belong to the Church and actually hate it. There are o shades of grey. As a result of this dichotomy, nobody, believer or unbeliever, is really able to understand what being a lay Catholic actually means. It does not matter that the Second Vatican Council took place in Rome. The flag of the laity celebrated during the Council does not fly from the towers of Italian churches – but, rather, from the tops of English Catholic churches.
In recent months, the Italian struggle between clericalists and their opponents has rediscovered an old battlefield: the conception of Italy as a secular state. This is a struggle rooted in the 19th century, and especially the battle against the Papal States. Since then, the views of the warring factions have changed little. In the secular corner, there are those who think that the Pope and the bishops should not express their opinions about anything but the perpetual virginity of Mary, and should leave discussion of every other subject to non-believers (preferably atheists). In the Catholic corner, there are those who think that the Pontiff and the bishops are entitled to express their opinion about everything, and whatever they say they is ipso facto right – a sort of an extended infallibility.
When Pope John Paul II visited, for the first time in history, the Italian parliament at the end of 2002, he had clear words for Italians. “Truly deep is the bond that exists between the Holy See and Italy,” he said. “We all know that this association has gone through widely different phases and circumstances, subject to the vicissitudes and contradictions of history. But at the same time we should recognise that precisely in the sometimes turbulent sequence of events that bond has had highly positive results, both for the Church of Rome, and therefore for the Catholic Church, and for the beloved Italian Nation.” The Holy Father also spoke about “beneficial cooperation” between Italy and the Holy See.
Ever since, Italian bishops have increased their public intervention in Italian politics. Sometimes they have chosen the right topics, such as the defence of life: last spring, three quarters of Italians followed the advice of the hierarchy and did not vote in a referendum about the relaxation of laws on artificial fertilisation. At other times, bishops have seemed more like politicians than religious leaders – for example, by expressing opinions on the reform of the Italian Constitution.
Pope Benedict has recently written a letter to Pierferdinando Casini, the President of Chamber of Deputies, reasserting that the Church “does not intend to reclaim any privilege” but only wants the possibility to fulfil its mission, respecting the legitimate secular status of the State; he adds that this status is not in conflict with the Christian message. Thus Benedict, as bishop of Rome, is restating the principle of detached but beneficial cooperation that John Paul II spoke about. In contrast, we see the Italian Bishops’ Conference involving itself deeply in Italian politics, with official Catholic statements about everything. Meanwhile, outside the Church, there are many people who wish to reduce Catholics to complete silence.
But something is slowly changing, both inside and outside the Church. Consider, for example, the writings of the distinguished Catholic journalist and author Vittorio Messori, or those of Renato Farina, deputy editor of Libero, a conservative lay newspaper. These laymen, among others, are considered by public opinion to form a sort of unofficial Catholic position, and they probably reach many more consciences with their free Catholic-inspired opinions than the official statements of the bishops’ conference could ever do. Interestingly – and this is where the situation is different from that in other countries – this fresh lay voice of the Church is not in conflict with official doctrine or moral teaching, and somehow strikes a more genuine note than many episcopal pronouncements.
But also outside the Church something is changing. A few non-believing scholars have become passionate supporters of John Paul II and Benedict XVI’s struggle against ethical relativism. The philosopher Marcello Pera has written against relativism and in favour of “natural law”, notably in a book co-authored with Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger. Meanwhile, the editor of Foglio newspaper, Giuliano Ferrara, also not a believer, has used his columns and his television programmes to argue for Christian values, invoking their connection with the classical liberal tradition.
In other words, Italian Catholicism can no longer leave its response to the secular world to its clergy; it cannot build a dialogue with relativistic culture simply with bishops’ statements. What is most required is a new generation of mature Catholic lay people – men and women who can feel free to express positions about secular matters without asking permission of their parish priests.
England has a head start on us in this respect. You were lucky to have a “Glorious Revolution” (albeit a Protestant one) and not a French Revolution. English Catholics are not chained to the concept of an over-mighty State that has humiliated Europeans. Your heritage is one of individualism – and one that I hope will not be eroded by the European Union.
While Italian and most continental European churches are nowadays finding it difficult to define a role for Christian laymen, English Catholicism has understood the true meaning of laity ever since the witness of St Thomas More. He was not a bishop, a priest or a monk, but the example of his martyrdom still lies at the very heart of the English Catholic Church.
Indeed, Italian Catholics are increasingly looking to England for examples of great Catholic laymen, not necessarily saints: G.K Chesterton, J R R Tolkien. Young Italian Catholics have taken these people to heart – though English people are probably unaware of it. These are the laity to whom we look back for inspiration, in the aftermath of Vatican II. The English lay tradition of sanctity – or simply of Christian example – is perfectly suited to the contemporary era.
So here is a challenge. Will England help the rest of Europe discover the pride of being lay?