Left vs Right like Reds vs Blues

by Dr Raymond Perrier · September 7, 2014

When secular journalists comment on the Catholic Church they often fall into the trap of using the language of mainstream politics. They thus talk about one faction being on the up and another on the way out; a shift to the left or a movement to the right; a win for the liberals or a setback for the conservatives.

A flag features the image of the late Archbishop Oscar Romero, whose sainthood cause Pope Francis has said is now �unblocked�. (Photo: Ulises Rodriguez, Reuters/CNS)

Given the traditional colours of left-wing and right-wing they even describe the Church in terms of a football match � with the reds beating the blues in extra time. And we as Catholics can sometimes absorb that language inadvertently, perhaps responding to the election of a pope or the appointment of a cardinal as a �goal� for our favourite team.

This does not serve us well. It fails because the Church is not a purely human institution. We can�t interpret the movement of the Holy Spirit in such simplistic terms�but also because the Church is a very complex entity.

I was reminded of this with the announcement by Pope Francis recently�as is often the case with him, a semi-formal comment to journalists on a plane�that the process for the canonisation of Archbishop Oscar Romero should proceed quickly.

�A goal for the liberals! A shift to the left! Francis scores against John Paul II!� Some might take this overly simple view. Pope John Paul, it is argued, blocked the canonisation of this �turbulent priest� who supposedly sided with communists, was too friendly with free-thinking Jesuits, became enmeshed in the politics of El Salvador, forgot the rich and powerful families on whom the Church depended and was at the centre of a personality cult.

By contrast, Pope Francis sees in Romero a kindred spirit, a champion of the poor, not afraid to overturn stodgy Church customs, inspired by radical Jesuits, able to build alliances even with atheist Marxists, and one who ultimately gave his life for the cause.

Whilst there are elements of truth in both those interpretations, the lenses of left and right, I would suggest, actually blur the picture rather than enhance it.

Some 34 years after Romero�s death�he was shot dead while saying Mass in a small convent chapel � the images of his life and death remain vivid.

Certainly there is an echo with Francis�living in two simple rooms, walking about with ordinary people, not standing on ceremony.

But there are also echoes with the life of St John Paul�Romero�s role as a voice for the voiceless, his bravery in speaking out to dictators when other Church leaders stayed silent, his ability to take strength from others and give strength to others.

And as an academic and a quiet man, happier alone than in front of big crowds, we even see parallels with Benedict XVI.

The complexity of Romero is part of what makes him attractive � and an interesting saint for our times. Two stories might illustrate this.

A group of young seminarians, fired up by the revolutionary words of their archbishop, were creeping out of the seminary in casual clothes to join a political rally in San Salvador. As they were leaving, they noticed a figure on his knees in the chapel praying, wearing a full black cassock and saying his rosary. Just the kind of old-fashioned priest they did not want to be�too busy with his prayers to go out and fight for the poor on the street! But just then the dark figure got up and turned around and it was their hero, Archbishop Romero!

Another story is captured in John Duigan�s wonderful 1989 film, Romero. The army have taken possession of a village church and turned it into a barracks. Romero arrives determined to reclaim the church but is initially deterred by the guns brandished at him by drunken soldiers.

However, he then sees the faces of the people willing him to continue and, taking strength from them, leads the whole village back into the church in the face of the guns and they reclaim the building � and he says Mass. I went to this village some years ago and the people still talk excitedly of that day.

There is no question that Romero was assassinated; the debate is whether it was motivated by politics or by odium fidei��hatred of the faith��in which case it would be martyrdom.

But when we reflect more on the life of Romero, we see a man for whom faith and politics were not two different spheres but completely intertwined, both driving to a desire to defend the poor against injustice. This we see more and more is true of the life of Jorge Bergoglio�as Jesuit, bishop and now as pope. It is also a recurrent theme in the life of Karol Wojtyla � freedom-fighter, bishop, pope and saint.

All holy people�those formally canonised as saints, those in the process, and those still alive and working � are an inspiration to us. They should challenge us to leave behind labels and simple interpretations.

Instead we need to see the reality of a situation, judge what needs to be done and then act on it, even if at some cost to ourselves.

Some call that faith; some call that politics; some might just call it our calling as human beings.

In a South Africa, where traditional distinctions between good guys and bad guys are blurring, are we willing to transcend the labels, see what needs to be done, and then do it?