Yesterday the Catholic Church celebrated the second annual “World Day of the Poor.” As Pope Francis has made helping the poor a centerpiece of his pontificate, he naturally addressed the topic in his homily during Mass. You can read the whole homily in the link provided, but I’d like to comment on one paragraph in particular, for it encapsulates what the pope gets right—and wrong—about poverty and wealth (Francis’s words in bold).

Let us ask for the grace to hear the cry of all those tossed by the waves of life. The cry of the poor: it is the stifled cry of the unborn, of starving children, of young people more used to the explosion of bombs than happy shouts of the playground. It is the cry of the elderly, cast off and abandoned to themselves. It is the cry of all those who face the storms of life without the presence of a friend. It is the cry of all those forced to flee their homes and native land for an uncertain future. It is the cry of entire peoples, deprived even of the great natural resources at their disposal. 

Although the Holy Father gets criticized for overemphasizing the need to materially help the poor, it shouldn’t be forgotten that this is an essential requirement of being a follower of Christ. Our Lord made this clear in the parable of the Sheep and the Goats (Mt 25: 31-46), when he made our salvation dependent on how we help “the least of these.” I think it was Archbishop Chaput who said, “If we ignore the poor, we will go to hell.” This is a true—and frightening—statement. We are obligated to assist the poor in some way. So even if we think Pope Francis neglects spiritual matters at times in his focus on the material, we can’t do the opposite and neglect materially helping the poor.

I also appreciate who Francis includes in his list of the “poor.” Beyond the obvious groups we’d consider “poor” (such as starving children and those “cast off”), he mentions the unborn as well as children “more used to the explosion of bombs than happy shouts of the playground.” What is a greater poverty than living an existence in which your very life is constantly in danger? Yet that is the plight for many unborn children, as well as children living in war-torn areas such as the Middle East (who too often face U.S. bombs).

I know some might find controversial his inclusion of “all those forced to flee their homes and native land for an uncertain future,” but no matter your views on immigration policy, we must be sympathetic to the plight of those who live in such dismal conditions that they must sacrifice everything to leave it for a better life. How we can best help them can be debated, but we can’t debate that they are among the poor.

It is the cry of every Lazarus who weeps while the wealthy few feast on what, in justice, belongs to all. Injustice is the perverse root of poverty. 

Here things get a little more problematic. What does Pope Francis mean when he says that “the wealthy few feast on what, in justice, belongs to all”? What exact resources are the wealthy feasting on? What does he mean that these resources “belong to all” in justice?

Unfortunately, based on a long history of comments by the Holy Father, it’s likely he’s advocating a system of forced redistribution of resources by governments, i.e., some form of socialism. Yet how would that forced redistribution not itself be an injustice? Although the pope only talks about a “wealthy few,” every system of redistribution always includes even those who are middle-class, even lower middle-class.

Let’s assume someone works an honest job to support his family. If he is a Christian, then I would argue that he is obligated to donate at least some portion of his wages to charity to help the poor. How much would depend on how much he makes and his legitimate obligations, but it should be something. Let’s say he doesn’t, though. What if a man with a gun came to his home, said, “Give me 30% of all your money – I’m going to use it to help the poor!” Would that be a just action? What if that person were wearing an IRS jacket? Does that make it just?

(If you question the analogy that an IRS agent would use force, try to not pay your taxes sometime and see what happens. You will eventually end up in jail, and if you refuse to go to jail, men with guns will come for you.)

Government redistribution of wealth faces many practical problems, in that governments are notoriously terrible at effectively distributing the funds. However, the main issue with government redistribution is a moral one, not a practical one, for it takes money by force from one person to give it to another. Pope Francis says that justice demands that the rich help the poor, and I don’t disagree with him that the rich should help the poor (I’d say that’s mercy, though, rather than justice). But it’s a core Catholic teaching that one cannot do evil that good may result—so why would it be okay to forcibly take money from some in order to help others?

The cry of the poor daily grows louder but is heard less and less. Every day that cry gets louder, but every day heard less, drowned out by the din of the rich few, who grow ever fewer and more rich.

Here Francis is simply incorrect to say that “the rich few…grow ever fewer.” The fact is that the past 200 years has seen a dramatic rise in material wealth. Further, that wealth has become better distributed over the past 30 years than ever before.

Let’s first look at historical world GDP (all data/charts from here). You can see in this chart that for almost all of human history, GDP had been essentially stagnant. Yet in the early 1800’s—which corresponds to the rise of the industrial age and capitalism—we witness a huge spike:

Now perhaps all the wealth is just concentrated with the “rich few,” as Pope Francis suggests? That’s not the case, as can clearly be seen from this chart tracking the share of the world population living in absolute poverty from the early 19th century to today:

Over 90% of the world was living in absolute poverty in 1820, but less than 10% do today. In other words, not only is the world getting more and more materially prosperous, that wealth is reaching everyone.

Finally, let’s focus just on the last 30 years and how income has been distributed across the globe. In this chart, we see global income distribution in 1988:

If it’s unclear, this chart is essentially saying that the non-developed world was dominated by very low-income workers. Now let’s look at the same chart in 2011:

It’s clear that income has become more and more distributed around the world. So when Pope Francis says that the wealthy are growing “fewer,” he’s simply mistaken. And when he says the wealthy are growing “more rich,” he’s correct, but that’s only because everyone is growing richer!

Pope Francis is correct to urge Christians to help the poor. However, many of his suggested solutions, which are often backed by inaccurate data, can be unjust and will often do more harm than good. There’s a two-fold means for Christians to help the poor: promote capitalism and perform charity.

First, advocate for policies that strengthen the free market. The rise of the free market (i.e., capitalism) corresponds directly to the rise of global wealth. Millions of people have been lifted out of poverty due to the free market. If we want to help the poor, we should push for structures that generate wealth for the poor.

Second, be involved in charity for the poor. No system will ever lift everyone out of poverty; the human condition is such that some will always face financial difficulties. In these situations, Christians need to reach out their hands to help those truly in need.

Unfortunately, Pope Francis appears to use his heart more than his head when he advocates bad solutions to help the poor. But if we are really serious about lifting people out of poverty, let’s use both our heads and our hearts to do all we can to make that a reality.

The post What Pope Francis Gets Right—and Wrong—About Poverty and Wealth appeared first on Eric Sammons.

We are now in the Christian season of Lent, the forty days of preparation leading to Easter. During this time, Christians are called to contemplate Jesus giving himself up to suffering and death on the Cross for the salvation of the world. To help in this contemplation, Christians are to engage in three religious practices: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.

These three practices are not unique to Christianity, of course. In fact, Christianity inherited them from Judaism, out of which it was born. The religion of Islam also embraces the importance of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, particularly during the season of Ramadan. Other religions also stress the value of these practices. Why do so many faiths emphasize these three activities in particular?

Because together they are the best weapon in the most important battle we each face: the battle within.

Continue reading at Mind & Spirit…

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The Unthinkable

The angels gaze down from heaven,
“The land is doomed,” they say.
Man has rejected the Lord,
He worships himself instead of God.

As the angels lament the fall of man,
They hear the Voice,
The Father speaking from His Throne,
and they stop and listen.

“I have seen the misery of man,” declares the Father.
“I have looked upon his misfortune,
I have endured his betrayal,
But I will have mercy on him.”

The angels rejoice, but they wonder as well,
How will the Father accomplish His Will?
Though He is the Omnipotent One,
They know this will be His greatest work.

The Father continues,
“I will send someone from heaven,
One who will become a man,
One who will save my people.

“This one will suffer and die,
But in his suffering and death,
Man will be made whole again,
And raised to new heights of glory.

“Whom shall I send?”

The angels look to one another,
“Which of us will he send?
How can an angel—a spirit—become man?
Is this possible, even for the Lord of Hosts?”

Then the unthinkable happens:
God the Son, seated at the right hand of the Father,
Rises, turns to the Father, and says, 
“Here am I, send me!”

The angels are silent,
Unable to comprehend the Son’s words.
God Himself, becoming man?
What a great mystery this is!

The Word become flesh,
Wisdom become folly,
The King become a slave,
The Mighty One become a human babe?

Then the angels break their silence,
In the face of this great mystery,
In light of the unfathomable love of God,
They thunder out their eternal song:

“Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, 
who was, and who is, and who is to come!
Thou art worthy, O Lord our God, 
to receive glory, and honour, and power!”

—Composed Christmas Day 2019

The post The Unthinkable: A Christmas Poem appeared first on Eric Sammons.

“Dialogue is our method… The path ahead, then, is dialogue among yourselves, dialogue in your presbyterates, dialogue with lay persons, dialogue with families, dialogue with society. I cannot ever tire of encouraging you to dialogue fearlessly.” —Pope Francis, Address to the U.S. Bishops, September 23, 2015

In the halls of Catholic chanceries around the world, the term “dialogue” has become an Eastern mantra, repeated over and over as if the word itself has the spiritual power to break down divisions, heal wounds, and bring about the Age of Aquarius (although I’d prefer a return to the Age of Aquinas). Do a Google search on the Vatican website for the word “dialogue;” you’ll get over 33,000 results while words like “evangelization” and “conversion” return less than half as many. The U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops alone is currently involved in more than 20 official “dialogues” with various religious groups. Dialogue is lit.

On the other hand, the Bible tells the story of a world sharply divided between those who follow God and those who do not. Salvation history is the tale of setting apart one group of people from the rest of the world, and the dangers that arise when that set-apart people mixes with other peoples. This is a theme that runs from Genesis, when Abraham and his descendants are set apart to be God’s people, to Revelation, when the final, permanent, division will occur.

Continue reading at Crisis Magazine…

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One of the greatest military events of the 20th century was not a victorious battle, but a hasty retreat. On May 27, 1940, the “Miracle of Dunkirk” began. British, French, and Belgian troops had retreated to the coast after being overwhelmed by German forces. With their backs to the sea, it seemed they faced inevitable destruction, but the Allied forces fortified the port of Dunkirk and began an evacuation of over 338,000 troops. Although they lost many ships and more than 40,000 men were captured, this miraculous retreat allowed the Allies to survive to fight another day—and eventually defeat the Nazis.

Today the Catholic Church in the United States is facing a similarly dire situation. If we want to survive—and eventually emerge victorious—we need to start planning our own Dunkirk.

Impending Collapse

Although for years many Catholics have lamented the decline of the Catholic Church in America, the situation is far worse than even the most pessimistic projections. How bad things really are is concealed by various demographic factors. For example, the total (self-identified) Catholic population in America has grown from 54.1 million in 1970 to 72.4 million in 2019, a respectable-sounding increase of 34% (statistics from the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate). However, during the same period, the American population increased by almost twice that much—60%. Further, much of the Catholic increase is driven not by converts or high birth rates, but by immigration from other countries.

And the news is far worse than just not keeping up with the population or being propped up by immigration. During the same time frame (1970 to 2019), the annual number of infant baptisms decreased by 46%—from 1.089 million to 582,000. So at a time when the population has more than doubled, and Catholic immigrants flooded the country, the number of infant baptisms decreased by almost half. This reflects the fact that although many adults still self-identify as Catholic, they do not practice the faith in any meaningful way (after all, they are not even baptizing their kids), which makes it inevitable that their progeny will have no attachment to the Faith.

When we look more closely at the numbers, we see that things have begun to disintegrate rapidly in recent years. The rate of decrease in infant baptisms, for example, has not been steady over the past 50 years; the decline has occurred mostly in the past 20 years. In 2000, there were still 996,000 infant baptisms, a decrease of only 8.5% since 1970. Not good, but not a complete collapse. However, in the last 20 years, there’s been a 41.5% decrease in infant baptisms.

It’s not just infant baptisms: there’s been an even greater decrease in the number of adult baptisms as well (falling 54% since 2005):

Further, this century has seen a rapidly decreasing number of self-identified Catholics (declining 10.8% in the past 15 years):

Not surprisingly, the number of Catholics who attend Mass every week has also sharply declined this century (31% since 2000):

Finally, there is one number that is increasing: the number of self-identified “former Catholics” (increasing 151%[!] since 2000):

And if these trends aren’t depressing enough, it’s likely things will get worse. The McCarrick scandal was only two years ago; how it will increase the ranks for former Catholics is still unknown. The recent suspension of all public Masses in the United States in response to Covid-19 has broken many Catholics’ habit of attending Sunday Mass, a habit that for many was already teetering on the edge. How many Catholics will come back to Mass once the doors are fully open again? And if they don’t come back, will their children? Unlikely.

So it’s not alarmist to say the Catholic Church in America is facing an overwhelming enemy, much like the Allied forces were overwhelmed on May 27, 1940. 

Retreat, Not Surrender

In the face of this coming implosion, what is the Church to do? Most Church leaders effectively say, “Keep the status quo!” Others of a more evangelical bent might say, “We need to do more outreach!” I’ve been involved in Catholic evangelization efforts for decades and was a diocesan Director of Evangelization for five years, so I’m sympathetic to the latter response. However, I’m now convinced we are in a Dunkirk moment, and we need to act accordingly.

Before I explain how the Church might pull off its own “Miracle at Dunkirk,” let’s be clear what the Dunkirk evacuation was not: it was not a surrender. In war it’s sometimes necessary to retreat in order to gather your strength for later battles. A retreat can be honorable and prudent. When it comes to the Church’s mission in the world, a surrender is never acceptable, but a temporary retreat can be the most prudent course of action.

Another thing Dunkirk was not: it was not a panicked fleeing from trouble. Dunkirk is called a “miracle,” but in reality it was a well-executed evacuation that involved the coordination of many leaders and thousands of men. Had it been an every-man-for-himself situation, massive casualties would have ensued. Instead, through courage, heroism, and determination, the Allied troops accomplished their objective, beyond even their own hopes. 

Our Dunkirk

How then should the Church’s Dunkirk proceed? Obviously the first thing is to get our Church leaders—particularly bishops and parish pastors—to realize we are in a Dunkirk moment. Pretending that everything is fine not only ignores the complete collapse that will inevitably happen (and is happening now), but it leaves us in a weaker position to recover from it. And we can’t pretend that Christ’s promise that the gates of hell won’t prevail against the Church (Mt 16:18) will keep this collapse from happening. History has shown that this promise does not protect the Church’s presence in every geographic region in the world: Catholicism was completely overwhelmed in North Africa after the rise of Islam, and the local church quickly succumbed to King Henry VIII in 16th-century England.

Second, as in any retreat, we must leave behind everything non-essential. During the Dunkirk evacuation, the priority was getting the men to safety; if they had to leave behind personal belongings, or even military apparatus, then so be it. The men came first. Likewise, our dioceses and parishes need to jettison everything non-essential to surviving the collapse. Since the collapse will also entail a financial reckoning, the dioceses and parishes will have to trim their activities anyway. This means a hard look at what is essential and what is non-essential.

Of course, the first thing to be jettisoned are any diocesan or parish activities that aren’t directly related to strengthening the faith of those few Catholics who remain. Youth sports, community social groups, interreligious outreaches, and other such extraneous activities might have at one time seemed like good ideas, but now they use up resources with little spiritual return.

And the cuts need to be deeper than the obvious. As one example: we need to question whether to continue Catholic schools as they are currently structured. Is it essential to spend an inordinate amount of money to maintain a barely-Catholic school that educates barely-practicing children of barely-practicing parents? Having these schools hasn’t prevented the collapse; keeping them only directs limited resources away from the Church’s core mission, which is the salvation of souls. 

Rethink the Status Quo

Finally, we need to plan for the future. After the Allied forces successfully retreated back to England, they didn’t just say, “Let’s keep doing what we’ve been doing—it’s sure to work next time!” No, they realized that the status quo would simply lead to more losses. Likewise, dioceses and parishes can’t keep trying to reach lukewarm Catholics with the same methods that drove them to their lukewarmness in the first place.

In the face of the unrelenting blitzkrieg which has inflicted so many losses on the Church for decades, we need to question how things operate in the Church. We must rethink everything: youth ministry, religious education, the number of parishes, priestly assignments…the list could go on and on. Although many of the ways parishes and dioceses do things were begun with good intentions, that does not mean they are suited to the current crisis.

And we can’t be content in simply rejecting the failed post-conciliar status quo—we must discover where Catholicism is currently thriving in America. Although the overall Church is in a state of free-fall, there are pockets of growth. The most prominent pocket is young homeschooling families, many of whom attend the Traditional Latin Mass. Instead of eyeing these families with suspicion, Church leaders need to embrace them and learn from them. Why are modern young people attracted to traditional forms of piety, be it the liturgy or popular devotions? How can we encourage those forms more broadly? Further, why do these families distrust conventional Catholic schools? Perhaps their criticisms have merit and shouldn’t be ignored or mocked. 

No one wants to hear bad news. Yet ignoring bad news usually makes a situation worse. And the news is beyond bad for the Catholic Church in America: we are cornered and facing imminent collapse. Will we foolishly maintain the status quo, pretending we can engage the overwhelming enemy on his turf, or will we execute a well-planned retreat that will strengthen us for victory in the future?

Image: Troops evacuated from Dunkirk on a destroyer about to berth at Dover, 31 May 1940.

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May 9th, 2012 is a significant date in this nation’s history. That is the day President Barack Obama, just beginning a re-election campaign against presumptive Republican nominee Mitt Romney, announced he supported legalizing same-sex marriage (notably, Obama was pressured to make this statement after his Vice President, Joe Biden, said publicly a few days earlier that he was “comfortable” with same-sex marriage). The date’s significance comes not from a presidential candidate making a calculated decision to shore up support from his base; that occurs every election cycle. It is significant because on that date millions of Americans became bigots overnight.

Of course, no one actually transformed into a bigot that night. But Obama’s announcement opened the floodgates to allow the liberal establishment—in the media, in academia, and in Hollywood—to accuse millions of Americans of being bigots for not supporting same-sex marriage. As long as the Left’s standard-bearer withheld his support, it was impossible to equate opponents of same-sex marriage to Nazis or Klansmen. But once Obama officially embraced the growing zeitgeist, such comparisons became commonplace.

The Limitations of Dialogue

Although many crucial events led up to this turning point, I consider it a watershed in American history. It marked the final nail in the coffin of rational public discourse. When a view that has been the default of every culture in every time in history is suddenly considered “hate,” and its adherents treated as extremists not worthy of a public platform, any recourse to reason has been abandoned. Yet many Catholics continue to act as if reasoned dialogue is the path forward. 

Dialogue, of course, has been the Church-approved solution to every political and religious problem since the 1960’s. Pope Paul VI introduced this novelty in his first encyclical, Ecclesiam Suam, in 1964, and ever since then dialogue has been the Church’s magic wand for resolving any conflict and overcoming every hurdle. Yet dialogue presumes good will and an open mind on the part of both parties. If anything has been clear since May 9th, 2012, it’s that there’s no good will or open minds left in the liberal establishment. How is dialogue possible when the other side is simply calling you names and refusing to even listen to your arguments?

We’ve seen the difficulty of reasoned dialogue only increase since 2012. During this year’s Summer of Discontent, thousands of young Leftists have rioted, destroyed private property (including statues of Catholic saints), and browbeaten anyone who dared to stand up to them. The “Cancel Culture,” which can be traced back decades but received its official opening on May 9th, 2012, has meant the death of dialogue.

Yet Catholics should not be surprised by this development. We see the roots of it in John 1:5, which the Vulgate magnificently renders, et lux in tenebris lucet et tenebrae eam non conprehenderunt, which is translated, “And the light shines in darkness: and the darkness did not comprehend it.” The darkness did not comprehend the light. Sometimes this is translated that the darkness did not “overcome” the light, but the underlying Greek word, katalmbano, means “grasp,” so “conprehenderunt” is a perfect translation. 

The light is something the darkness simply cannot understand; it is beyond the darkness’s ability to grasp.

Time to Proclaim, Not Explain

So does that mean there is no hope for those in the darkness? The very next verses in John’s Gospel make it clear that there is a way to reach them: 

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came for testimony, to bear witness to the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness to the light. (John 1:6-8)

This means that those who dwell in darkness can be reached, and that John the Baptist is the model for doing so. John’s message is two-fold: (1) Repent of your sins (cf. Matthew 3:2); and (2) Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world (cf. John 1:29). In other words, he reveals the real problem in the world—personal sin—and he gives the only solution to that problem—Jesus Christ. John the Baptist has no desire to dialogue with those who have embraced sin; he wants them to confront their sins and shows them the way to be rid of them. 

Why did John the Baptist reject dialogue as a means to bring about change? Is it because he was an intolerant bigot? No, it was because he recognized that the primary problem inflicting man was not one of the intellect, but of the will. Dialogue presumes that the will follows the intellect, but for most people, it’s the exact opposite: our intellects follow our wills. 

This is why the primary duty when it comes to evangelization is to proclaim the Gospel, not explain it. There is a place for apologetics—the intellectual defense of the faith—but apologetics is only fruitful when the other party is willing to listen. Someone who believes you are “literally Hitler,” however, isn’t going to listen to your natural law defense of the complementarity of the sexes. 

3 Steps to Proclaiming the Gospel

So what do we do? We do the same thing as John the Baptist. We proclaim the Gospel—repent of your sin, turn to Jesus, and you will be saved. A better question for us moderns, however, is, how do we do this? After all, I don’t think most of us want to go to the desert, dress in clothing made of camel’s hair, and survive on locusts and wild honey. Yet we can still be John the Baptists today. 

The first way we can do this is by simply and publicly stating the truth. When Herod had married his brother’s wife, John the Baptist publicly stated the truth: this was no marriage. Today, we must state, without apology, truths like abortion is murder, marriage is between a man and a woman, and a man cannot declare himself a woman. 

Second, we must make clear that the solution to our societal problems is ultimately not a political solution, but a spiritual one. While many Church leaders naively want to work for the “common good” with secular elites who hate them, Catholics need to refocus on pointing the world—including those secular elites who hate us—to Christ, like John the Baptist did.

Finally, we must be willing to accept suffering and even martyrdom. For many Catholics, fear dominates our response to a world gone mad. We fear social ostracization. We fear being “cancelled” as bigoted/racist/sexist/homophobic/transphobic. We fear losing our jobs. We may even fear the possibility of far worse outcomes: having our children taken away, or being arrested, or being killed. But John the Baptist feared none of those things, and he was willing to be killed by the State rather than fail to proclaim the Truth, who is Jesus Christ. We must be as fearless as he was.

Ultimately, we must remember that life is not a college course conducted in an ivory tower; it’s an ugly battle. It is a battle between the forces of good and evil, and when we are combating evil, we cannot refuse to stand up to it, hoping that perhaps the other party will come to his senses if we calmly explain why he’s wrong. Instead we need the fortitude to stand up to evil, and to call those who embrace evil to repentance, pointing them to Jesus Christ, the only solution to the world’s—and each man’s—problems.

Image: U.S. President Barack Obama said he supports same-sex marriage, in an interview with Robin Roberts of ABC’s Good Morning America. May 9, 2012 (HANDOUT/REUTERS)

The post The Time for Dialogue is Over appeared first on Eric Sammons.

I entered the Catholic Church in 1993, during the height of the Pope John Paul II papacy. Just a few months after I was received into the Church, I attended World Youth Day in Denver, along with a million other enthusiastic young Catholics. So it should be no surprise that I was unabashedly a “JPII Catholic,” which meant, among other things, that I was a happy defender of Vatican II, while being a critic of what I perceived as its bad implementation. Then in the 2000’s I supported Pope Benedict’s “Reform of the Reform”—his call to rethink, but not cast away, the reforms that came out of Vatican II (i.e., its implementation). No matter how critical I might have been of what happened in the Church following the Council, I was nevertheless an ardent defender of Vatican II.

My defense of the Council led me to study the Council documents thoroughly, even taking a graduate-level course devoted solely to reading and interpreting those documents. The course was taught by another “JPII Catholic” who also loved the Council but lamented its implementation. We spent a whole semester diving into the documents and determining their “true interpretation” and how they should have been implemented. Following that course I continued to study the council texts, and I continued to believe the implementation, not the Council itself, was the only problem. I continued to be an ardent defender of Vatican II.

But now I’m not.

Rotten Fruit

How did I go from being a defender of Vatican II to a critic? First, let me note that “critic” is a broad term and can mean many things. It could mean one thinks the Council is invalid or heretical. It could mean the critic thinks Vatican II was ambiguous or imprudent. But ultimately, it means the person is willing to criticize the Council itself, not just its implementation. In my case, I do not think Vatican II was invalid; nor do I believe it heretical (although certain passages can be interpreted in ways that support heresy). I argue that the council texts are at times intentionally ambiguous, imprudent, and in tension with a historic understanding of Catholicism.

So what led me to become critical of Vatican II itself, and not just its implementation? A number of factors led to the change. The first was simply practical. For decades I have worked in Catholic evangelization, at the personal, parish, and diocesan levels. I’ve read all the modern Catholic books on how best to bring people to the Faith, and checked out the various movements and programs of the “New Evangelization” that promote Catholicism today. We’re spending a lot of energy trying to bring people to the Church, but, if we look honestly at the numbers, the New Evangelization, founded on Vatican II, has been an abysmal failure. It doesn’t work, at least not on any macro level. I even wrote a book about this phenomenon.

Conservative pro-Vatican II Catholics like to point out that liberal Vatican II Catholics don’t produce converts, but here’s a little secret: conservative pro-Vatican II Catholics, while bringing in a few converts, don’t hold back the tidal wave of Catholics leaving the Church. No matter how you present Vatican II Catholicism, the result is a rapidly shrinking Church.

Can You Hijack Yourself?

But my real epiphany when it came to Vatican II was the realization (which is quite obvious in hindsight) that the implementers of Vatican II were the Council Fathers themselves. This point cannot be overemphasized. The standard line for conservative defenders of Vatican II is that the implementation was “hijacked.” By this, they mean that certain forces within the Church used Vatican II to implement their own agenda, one that was supposedly contrary to the Council itself. 

Yet this argument, while commonly advocated, stretches credulity to a breaking point. After all, who were these supposedly nefarious implementers? Vatican II was implemented by the Cardinals and bishops of the Church, the same men who were responsible for writing and approving the Council documents. How is it that 99% of these Council Fathers misinterpreted their own documents? Did they not understand what they were voting for? Was there some mass delusion that occurred among the episcopate as soon as the Council ended whereby they thought the documents now said things they never meant?

Clearly that’s absurd. The reality is that the men who wrote, debated, and approved the 16 documents of Vatican II were the same men who returned to their dioceses and implemented those documents. And with only a few exceptions, they all implemented them in the exact same way—the way that led to the post-Vatican II “Dark Ages” of the 1970’s, which is still the foundation of today’s average Catholic parish. They all embraced the New Mass; they all embraced the ecumenical movement; they all embraced interreligious dialogue; they all embraced transforming the Catholic Church into another mainline Protestant denomination.

It seems to me the height of arrogance for Catholics today to look back and say the Council’s implementation was “hijacked.” If it was hijacked, then it was hijacked by the rightful owners—the Council Fathers. How exactly is that a hijacking? The implementation of Vatican II is of a whole with the Council itself; it is a feature, not a bug, of the Council. To criticize the implementation is to criticize the foundation of the implementation: the Council documents.

Replacing the Creaky Foundation

For decades a fierce debate about the way forward for the crumbling Catholic Church has raged between those who want to continue the implementation of Vatican II as it has been going on for 50+ years, and those who want to have a new implementation of Vatican II. Yet very few within the Church hierarchy want to admit that perhaps the issue isn’t the implementation of Vatican II, but the Council itself. Catholics today must have the courage to admit that a primary reason the modern Church is crumbling is that it’s been built upon a creaky foundation: Vatican II. Until we recognize that fact, we’ll never be able to move forward and rebuild the Church, which is falling into ruin.

The post How I Went from a Defender of Vatican II to Its Critic appeared first on Eric Sammons.

It’s no secret that many Catholics do not accept all the teachings of the Catholic Church. Almost 70% don’t believe in the Real Presence in the Eucharist. Large numbers of young Catholics don’t think homosexual activity is immoral. Vast numbers of Catholics contracept. Most Catholics believe other religions can lead a person to salvation. 

How is it that so many Catholics reject what are official teachings of the Catholic Church? Some of it of course can be put at the feet of our disordered wills; people often don’t want to believe something that makes them change their lives. Blame can also be laid at the feet of terrible “feel-good” catechesis over the years. 

But I would argue that the reason a lot of Catholics don’t accept the teachings of the Church is that they’ve been taught not to…by the Church.

Many Teachers of the Faith

What do I mean by that? Simply put, for decades now the Church—through her leaders, teachers, and other representatives—have been “teaching” Catholics to reject fundamental teachings of the Church. To understand how that occurs, we need to understand how Catholics come to their beliefs in the first place.

Learning the faith is not like something out of the Matrix, where Catholics just have a catechism downloaded into their brains. In real life, countless “teachers” form each Catholic’s beliefs, including a pastor’s homilies, media reports, Church documents, home life, papal interviews, peer influence, and many other sources. 

This has led to a vast dichotomy between “official” Church teaching and how Catholics have actually been taught. It would be easy to see all these other “teachers” as unofficial and therefore not important, but that would ignore the very real way the Catholic faith has always been passed on from generation to generation since the time of Christ. The Church is not a “document Church,” simply consisting of declarations and teachings that we must assent to. It is a living Body made up of men and women that passes on the faith in all the ways humans have always passed on knowledge. So even though the Church might officially teach one thing, from the perspective of the average Catholic, “the Church” may very well teach the opposite.

Understanding the reality of learning the Faith through multiple “teachers” is important, even if it can be frustrating. Traditional and conservative Catholics usually want to see only official Church teaching as the source of a Catholic’s knowledge. If someone challenges or questions Church teaching, they believe the debate is over if they can just show what the Church “really teaches.” 

Yet history has shown that this isn’t sufficient. When Martin Luther ignited the Protestant Reformation, a Catholic couldn’t just say, “Official Church teaching is that you can’t sell indulgences,” and expect the debate to be over and Luther to go back to his monastery, tail tucked between his legs. Many political, economic, cultural, religious, and other factors contributed to the formation of European Catholics of the time, and these factors led vast numbers of them to leave the Church.

What matters is recognizing how things are, instead of pining for how we want them to be. Understanding how malformed views of Church teaching originate can help us to do better at combating them. 

A Multi-Teacher Case Study

Let’s look at a concrete example of how the faith is taught: the relationship between Catholics and Muslims. This is a relationship with a long (and often violent) history, and it has radically changed in the past few decades. Because of these changes, Catholics today are taught to view Islam in a far different light than previous generations. How has this changed teaching come about?

First, a quick review of the Catholic view of Islam before Vatican II. St. John of Damascus in the eighth century treated Islam as a heresy of Christianity; in the 11th century, a monk of France, likely Hugh of Cluny, wrote that Islam was led by Satan and drew many souls to Hell; and St. Thomas Aquinas referred to Muslims as “unbelievers.” An overall negative view of Islam—ranging from Satanism to heresy—dominated Catholic thought until the middle of the 20th Century.

However, the Second Vatican Council did much to change the view of Catholics in the pews in regard to Islam. It stated, 

“The Church regards with esteem also the Muslims. They adore the one God, living and subsisting in Himself; merciful and all- powerful, the Creator of heaven and earth…Since in the course of centuries not a few quarrels and hostilities have arisen between Christians and Muslims, this sacred synod urges all to forget the past and to work sincerely for mutual understanding and to preserve as well as to promote together for the benefit of all mankind social justice and moral welfare, as well as peace and freedom.” (Nostra Aetate 3). 

We can see the major change: what seemed Satanic in the 12th century is now held “with esteem.” Far from condemning Islam as a false religion which must be resisted, as many popes throughout history have done, Vatican II states that we must strive for “mutual understanding” and work together “for the benefit of all mankind.” 

This view of Islam from Vatican II has dominated the Church since the Council, and has not changed in any significant way since that time. For example, the Catechism of the Catholic Church, released almost thirty years after Nostra Aetate, simply repeats Vatican II teachings on the subject. Yet even without changes in official teaching, how the Church interacts with Muslims—and how Catholics view Islam—has developed since then. Looking at how popes since Vatican II have addressed Islam is one indicator of this development.

A few years after Vatican II, on a 1969 visit to Uganda, Pope Paul VI told Muslim representatives that he had “high respect for the faith you profess.” He compared the Catholic and Anglican Ugandan martyrs to “those confessors of the Muslim faith who were the first to suffer death, in the year 1848, for refusing to transgress the precepts of their religion.” Finally, he expressed the hope that “what we hold in common may serve to unite Christians and Muslims ever more closely in true brotherhood.” We have now moved from “mutual understanding” to “brotherhood,” and to referring to Muslims as having “faith,” a term that formerly was reserved to Christians. 

Pope John Paul II continued to develop the Catholic view of Islam during his pontificate. In 1979, he told a group of Catholics in Ankara:

“When I think of [the Muslim] spiritual heritage and the value it has for man and for society, its capacity of offering, particularly in the young, guidance for life, filling the gap left by materialism, and giving a reliable foundation for social and juridical organization, I wonder if it is not urgent, precisely today when Christians and Muslims have entered a new period of history, to recognize and develop the spiritual bonds that unite us.”

No longer are we simply working together and holding Muslims in esteem, now the pope is stating that Catholics and Muslims are united with “spiritual bonds” and is offering unqualified praise for good things Muslims do. In 1985, John Paul II further stated to a group of young Muslims, “The Catholic Church regards with respect and recognizes the quality of your religious progress, the richness of your spiritual traditions.” More unqualified praise for a religion that previous generations of popes warned against and considered false. 

It’s not papal statements alone that have shifted Catholics’ views of Islam. In 1986, Pope John Paul II gathered many world religious leaders for a World Day of Prayer for Peace, and the prayer service made headlines around the world, including images of the head of the Catholic Church gathered with leaders of other religions, including Islam, in prayer. To the average Catholic, these images put Islam and other religions on equal footing with Catholicism.

More recently, Pope Francis has gone beyond both Paul VI and John Paul II in his public appreciation of Islam. In 2014, Francis told a group of Christians and Muslims that Muslims can “expel the bitterness within our hearts, which embitters our hearts…with the Quran,” thus holding up the holy book of Islam as a beneficial guide. Most controversially, a document signed in 2019 by Pope Francis and Amhad Al-Tayeb, the Grand Imam of Al-Azhar, states that “the pluralism and the diversity of religions… are willed by God.” We have moved far beyond the esteem Vatican II said Catholics are to give Muslims to stating that their holy book is to be followed and that their religion—for centuries considered false by the Church—is willed by God.

These papal actions “trickle down” through the Church to the pew-sitting Catholic. It is now common for Catholic leaders, from bishops to parish priests, to emphasize the common beliefs of Catholics and Muslims, as well as the need to engage in “dialogue” with Muslims. Although it might be the case that some priests, for example, believe Islam to be false, there is no contemporary public statement or even suggestion by Church leaders that Islam is a false religion, or that the Catholic Church is the only path to heaven. The acceptance of Islam by the Church has become an unquestioned part of being Catholic. 

For the average Catholic, what is the result of this shift? A Pew Study in 2008 found that 62% of Catholics believe that Islam “can lead to eternal life” (another 18% answered “Don’t know”). A 2014 Pew Study found that 68% of Catholics believe that some non-Christian religions, including Islam, can lead to eternal life. Note that the poll question is not simply if an individual Muslim can make it to heaven. It’s whether the practice of Islam (or other non-Christian religion) can of itself lead someone to heaven. While the Church has acknowledged the possibility that a non-Catholic can make it to heaven, she has always officially taught that it is only the Church—and not the mosque—that dispenses the graces of salvation merited by Christ’s saving work. 

Forming Catholics Against Catholicism

This example regarding Catholic views on Islam that I’ve been belaboring is intended to show that there can be a wide divergence between “official Church teaching” and “what Catholics actually believe.” Most importantly, this divergence is often due not to negligence on the part of average Catholics to understand that “official teaching.” Instead, it’s due to the various ways Church leaders can send signals which are easily interpreted in a way contrary to official Church teaching, without actually being explicitly against that teaching. 

If leaders in the Church spend decades never mentioning the necessity of Catholicism for salvation, while at the same time praising over and over the faith of Muslims, the beauty of Islam’s spiritual heritage, and even suggesting that Islam itself is “willed by God,” then it’s only natural that most Catholics, who don’t spend their time digging into official Church documents, will think Islam can lead to heaven. The average Catholic has been “taught” a teaching contrary to official teaching by the words and actions of Church leaders that don’t technically contradict official Church teaching.

These various and subtle—and sometimes not-so-subtle—ways in which teachings are imparted to Catholics have a huge impact on how Catholics view their religion…and other religions. Continuing with the example of Islam, if Muslims—and often by extension, other non-Christian religions—can obtain eternal life by following their religion, then Catholics have no incentive to evangelize Muslims or any non-Catholics. They will not believe that Catholicism is a unique way to salvation. In many ways, it undermines the whole purpose of Catholicism itself. And it’s not the outside world that’s led to this undermining of Catholicism, but it’s been Catholic leaders and teachers who have done so.

Image: Pope John Paul II convenes an historic gathering of religious leaders in Assisi to pray for peace. 1986 Credit: L’Osservatore Romano

The post How Do Catholics Come to Believe What They Believe? appeared first on Eric Sammons.

It’s no secret that infighting flourishes among traditional Catholics. Of course, infighting is common in many ideological groups (in my pro-life activist days, I would joke, “If you put 10 pro-lifers in a room, you’ll have 11 different views on how to end abortion”). But infighting seems to be more prevalent among traditional Catholics, even becoming institutionalized at times (see: SSPX vs. FSSP). 

Now infighting isn’t always bad, and in fact a healthy group always has at least a bit of it. Internal debate allows members of the group to prune bad ideas and focus on the overall objective. If someone within a group has a really bad idea, then you want infighting in order to purge that bad idea before it becomes associated with the group.

But more often than not, infighting is the result of ego and pride rather than a virtuous effort to remain true to a group’s goals. It’s a ridiculous purity test, in which all who don’t toe the party line 100% are attacked and shunned. Unfortunately, infighting harms a group’s ability to achieve its goals. This has certainly been true of infighting among traditional Catholics.

Because of the adverse effects of infighting, in early 2019 Remnant Editor Michael Matt made an impassioned plea for traditional Catholics to “United the Clans” while a guest on Taylor Marshall’s YouTube show. This phrase “Unite the Clans,” a reference to a scene in the Mel Gibson movie Braveheart, became a shorthand way to urge traditional Catholics to stop infighting and join forces in the struggle to restore Tradition in the Church. 

Personally, I wholeheartedly embrace Matt’s call to Unite the Clans. It’s essential to unite at a time when there is a spike in interest in traditional Catholicism, as well as a hardening of opposition within the halls of many chanceries and parish offices. Yet I think it’s important that we move beyond the slogan and be clear as to what we mean when we say “Unite the Clans.” Most importantly, who exactly is included in “the Clans?” I can’t speak for Mr. Matt or any other traditional Catholic, but I can speak on who I think is included. What are my criteria for who is part of the traditional Catholic movement and therefore part of the Clans? Three criteria for inclusion present themselves.

(1) Want to Make the TLM Normative Again

The first criteria is a desire to see the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM) become the normative Roman Rite again. Every traditional Catholic is thankful that Pope Benedict XVI liberalized the use of the Traditional Latin Mass back in 2007. But Benedict’s action was also an innovation that created a liturgical environment never before seen in Church history: a bifurcated Roman Rite. There have always been multiple rites within the Church, yet never before had one rite had two “forms” allowed concurrently. Such a situation isn’t tenable long term; there should be only one Roman Rite, and it should be the TLM.

So making the TLM normative again is the shared goal, but how this is achieved is a matter for prudential discussions and arguments. Some traditional Catholics argue that the Novus Ordo should be abolished tomorrow, whereas others believe such a move is not pragmatically possible right now. Likewise, some traditional Catholics never step foot in a Novus Ordo Mass, while others attend either out of necessity or other considerations. Regardless of these issues, all that matters for inclusion in the Clans is a desire to see the TLM become the sole Roman Rite again.

(2) Be Willing to Criticize Vatican II

The second criteria is a willingness to criticize Vatican II itself and not just its implementation. A common belief among traditional Catholics is a distrust of the Vatican II-based reforms. Some argue that Vatican II should be scrapped and denounced by the Church; others would like a more surgical approach. But one of the main things that distinguishes a traditional Catholic from a “conservative” Catholic is a willingness to criticize Vatican II itself, not just how it was implemented (or “hijacked,” as many conservative Catholics say). 

To be part of the Clans, at least as I see it, one must be willing to admit that perhaps parts of Vatican II are the cause of many of our modern problems in the Church, or at the very least Vatican II exacerbated those problems. There can be legitimate debate as to what parts are most problematic and how to handle those issues, but one must admit the possibility of problems with Vatican II itself.

(3) Recognize Francis as the Legitimate Pope

My first two criteria are likely non-controversial with most traditional Catholics. But my final criteria might ruffle some feathers. To be part of the Clans, one must recognize that Francis is the legitimate pope—one cannot be a sedevacantist (believe that there is no pope) or a beneplenist (believe that Benedict XVI is still the pope).

Why is this a criteria for me? After all, most of those who reject Francis as pope easily fit the first two criteria. This criteria, however, touches directly the end-goal for traditional Catholics as I see it: a restoration of the TLM and Tradition within the Catholic Church. By rejecting the papacy of Francis, a sedevacantist/beneplenist creates a parallel Church with no way to reform the Catholic Church. I don’t want a parallel Church, I want the Catholic Church to re-embrace tradition. This is why I’d put the SSPX squarely within the Clans, because it recognizes Francis as pope (and it obviously fits the other two criteria as well). 

Keeping Our Eyes on the Prize

For me, these are the only three criteria one must meet to be considered part of the traditional Catholic “Clans.” I don’t care if someone prays the Luminous mysteries, or thinks distributism is the only truly Catholic economic policy; as long as he fits the three criteria above, he’s part of the Clans. But it’s also important to note that those who do not meet my three criteria are not thereby automatically my “enemy.” For example, on many issues, I would willingly work together with conservative or charismatic Catholics. We hold many common objectives. And of course I agree with sedevacantists/beneplenists on many issues. But I would not include any of them in the traditional Catholic Clans, because I do not believe that they share the same end-goal as traditional Catholics.

There’s no question that the quest to “Unite the Clans” is a difficult one. After all, those who embrace traditional Catholicism usually have strongly-held opinions and are willing to contradict popular narratives. So they also don’t mind arguing with other traditional Catholics. But that arguing cannot denigrate into pointless fights that take us away from our common objective: the restoration of the TLM and Tradition in the Catholic Church. We must be more willing to join forces, rather than treat prudential/practical matters as reasons to separate. In a time when more and more Catholics are looking to tradition, we must…

Unite the Clans!

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Five years ago this week I was the co-host of a local TV station’s week-long coverage of Pope Francis’s visit to the U.S. The TV station chose me because I was the local diocese’s Director of Evangelization, and to the media, that’s essentially equivalent to the Church’s PR guy. The station needed someone to explain to its audience the main themes of Francis’s pontificate, what he wanted to accomplish in his visit, why things were done the way they were in the Church, etc. So I dutifully sat in the co-anchor’s chair and explained as best I could.

However, at this point in my life my inner frustration with Francis was reaching a breaking point. During my commentary, I had to grit my teeth and not say the things that I was thinking: that Francis was harmful to evangelization, that he was allergic to tradition, that he had an abysmal record for purging abusive priests/bishops out of the Church, that he wasn’t giving a strong moral message to the world…the list could go on. Instead I said the boiler-plate pablum I was expected to say, which of course included absolutely no criticisms of the pope.

When my week on TV ended, I felt like I needed to take a shower. How was my putting a positive spin on an obviously bad situation helping the Church? Was it bringing anyone closer to Christ? I didn’t become a Director of Evangelization just so I could play Baghdad Bob for the Church. I wanted to draw people into a deeper relationship with Christ in His Church, not be a PR flak for a dysfunctional organization.

It was then that I realized I couldn’t work for the Church anymore. Although my bishop gave me a lot of leeway in my job, there were certain lines that were just impossible to cross, and criticizing the pope—in any way—was the most prominent of those lines (along with criticizing Vatican II). Yet these uncrossable lines were barriers to evangelization; they were barriers to honest, fruitful efforts to lead people to a deeper relationship with Christ. If I was required to mindlessly support every single thing the pope says and does, then non-Catholics—particularly evangelicals already suspicious about the dangers of the papacy—will be quickly turned off to the message. Further, thinking Catholics who know something is amiss will begin to think they are crazy for thinking that way and may begin to doubt their own faith.

It’s unfortunately a common misconception among Catholics that good evangelization means you can’t bring up the bad things going on in the Church. “Stay positive” is the number one rule of modern evangelization. If you bring up the bad, the belief goes, then people will be turned off to Catholicism and go elsewhere. Yet this isn’t true; in fact, the opposite is true. If an evangelist isn’t willing to publicly face head-on the problems in the Church, then people will know he’s just a slick salesman trying to cover up the warts. He won’t be trusted. But if an evangelist not only brings up those problems, but also directly addresses them and explains why they don’t negate the core message of the Gospel, then he will more likely be listened to. 

We can see this principle in practice in the Bible itself. Consider the First Letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians. Most people know of this epistle from Paul’s beautiful meditation on love found in its 13th chapter. Yet the main purpose of the letter is for Paul to air out the dirty laundry in the Corinth church and urge its members to reform their ways. If the Apostle took the view that we should ignore problems in the Church (as we see done by every institutional organ of the Church today), then he would never have confronted the Corinthian Catholics. And if God thought we should hide our dirty laundry, He would have never inspired the letter or had the Church include it in the Biblical canon.

To stop the downward demographic trend in the Church, we need to stop pushing the problems that are accelerating those trends under the rug. Only by being honest with our internal problems will we be able to go out into the world to effectively proclaim the Gospel. We need to be true evangelists, not PR flaks. We need to be like St. Paul, not like Bagdad Bob. 

Postscript: the priest pictured with me in the photo above sadly left the priesthood a couple years later. It’s a poignant example of the all-too-common, and all-too-real, problems in the Church today.

The post Evangelization, Not Public Relations appeared first on Eric Sammons.

Eulogy given at the funeral of Russell Sammons, March 27, 2021.

I’ll try to keep this short, as I know two things dad really didn’t like are long-winded speeches and people talking about him.

When preparing for this eulogy, I was trying to think of stories about dad. I have a few, but I realized that I don’t have a lot of flashy stories, because that’s not who dad was. Instead, as I thought back over the years, I realize that my memories of dad aren’t specific stories, but instead the fact that he was always “just there.” Now that might sound like a criticism, or damning with faint praise, but it’s not. It’s a high compliment.

For example, one of my strongest memories of dad was as the scorekeeper of my baseball team. He sat on the bench quietly taking score, not cheering or yelling, but he was always there. Likewise, I can’t remember having dinner at home when he wasn’t there, even though as superintendent, he had many responsibilities and requests to be away from the home.

Dad was steady. I knew that I could always count on him. In a way, he was always part of the background. He let me grow and develop, and of course he guided that development, but he did it in the background, never putting himself before me.

Consider one of the stones that support this building. In all the years Groesbeck United Methodist Church has been here, perhaps no one has noticed it. Yet if it was removed, the building would fall down. Dad understood that to be a good dad he always had to be there, even if he didn’t push himself forward.

Here’s another, biblical comparison. Consider Joseph, the foster-father of Jesus. Scripture doesn’t record one word of his, yet his impact on Jesus was profound. He is called a “just man”, and when Jesus was ministering in his home town, the people were astonished and said, “Is not this the carpenter’s son?” Jesus was identified with Joseph, even though Joseph clearly didn’t put himself forward.

I know something about being identified with one’s dad. All during high school I was mostly known as the superintendent’s son. Two of my nicknames growing up were “Sup” – short for superintendent – and “Russ” – for obvious reasons. Although some sons might not want to be too closely identified with their dad, I never minded, because I knew my dad was a good man, and to be identified with him was a great compliment.

I’ve also found over the years that whenever I’m given a compliment about some good character trait of mine, I realize it came from my dad. He was excellent in passing on human virtues, like being frugal with money (some would say cheap). He definitely passed that on to me.

The primary virtue he modeled was decency and respect for others. Of course he didn’t pass these virtues on by talking about them. As most of you know, my dad wouldn’t be considered “expressive” by any definition of the term. He came from a different time, when people didn’t put their every thought and complaint on the internet for everyone to see. Like Joseph, my dad was usually silent, at least in his words. But his actions spoke volumes. Dad didn’t talk, he acted. He was faithful to my mom. He was focused on his kids. He excelled at his job. He didn’t self-promote, but let his actions speak for him. And those actions practically screamed what a good man he was.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t correct me when I failed to exercise those virtues he modeled. I remember once when I was in high school I said something derogatory about a classmate at the dinner table. My dad, however, as superintendent knew that my classmate had a difficult home life. Without raising his voice, or violating the boy’s privacy, he simply told me my classmate had some difficulties at home and that I should be more understanding. His quiet words—backed by his own example—spoke louder than if he had been yelling at me. And as an aside: that classmate ended up becoming one of my best friends in high school, thanks to my dad.

One thing I’d be remiss not to mention is my dad’s marriage, because it exemplifies what kind of man he was. My mom and dad were married for 65 years. 65 years. Perhaps nothing was more foundational to my own development than the sign of this faithfulness.

Even the idea of my parents not being together has always been unthinkable to me. It would be like trying to convince me that the sun is cold or that the Bengals are a good football team. It’s unfathomable.

Finally, I want to speak briefly about the last few years of dad’s life. Alzheimer’s is a terrible disease which ravages not only the person, but also all those around him. In many cases, it transforms the person into someone else entirely. Yet although dad suffered from this disease for years, we always could see him in spite of it. Little things, like how he wouldn’t want mom to walk behind him even when she needed to help him with his walker. He would be unfailingly polite when a nurse or caregiver would come to visit.

And although I’m supposed to talk about dad, I can’t help but mention the tremendous witness of love my mom gave to us by her devoted care to my dad in his final years. And of course dad would rather I talk about mom than him anyway. When I would leave the house after a visit I would say to dad, “I’m leaving now, dad, but of course mom is still here.” Of course she is still here. There is no where on earth she would want to be than at his side, and I’m sure dad would say the same thing.

Fathers are supposed to model God the Father, and as a father myself, I know the tremendous burden that can be. Yet my dad did that the best he could. Because of my dad, I came to see God as Someone dependable who would always be there no matter what. I can’t think of a greater gift he could have given me.

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I know what many people will say when they read the title of this post: “What do you mean, ‘going?’”

However, in this case, I’m specifically referring to my recent decision to downgrade to a “dumbphone.” After more than 10 years with an iPhone, plus a few years before that with a Palm Phone (remember those?), I’ve returned to a device that only calls and texts (it doesn’t even take photos!). My phone is now basically just a phone.

As you can imagine, this is a major decision, but I think it’s one I had to make. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the impact of modern technology in our lives. I wrote over at Crisis Magazine about the potential impact modern technology is having on Catholicism, but I’ve also been looking at its impact on me personally. After decades of submissively embracing the latest technologies, I’ve taken a step back and re-evaluated how much I really need them.

All-Consuming and Addictive

It’s not that smartphones have no value. Of course they do—they are hugely popular for a reason. But during the decades I’ve had a smartphone, I’ve been ignoring its costs—costs in wasted time and distraction (and also the cost of lost privacy, which I’m not going to detail here, as I’ve written before about the need for online privacy). I’ve come to realize that I can still obtain many of the benefits that typically comes from a smartphone without actually owing a smartphone, thus eliminating its costs.

Smartphones gain their value from their apps. Those apps, however, are designed to keep us using them as much as possible. And since smartphones are with us 24/7, “as much as possible” can become all-consuming. And it’s important to realize that smartphone apps are purposefully designed so we spend as much time as possible using them.

For example, the ubiquitous “pull down to refresh” feature is designed after slot machines to give a dopamine hit to the brain, and the notification badge is red because that stimulates the brain to react more quickly. Our addiction to these devices is not a bug, but a built-in feature.

When I did a serious self-examination of my own use of my smartphone, I found that I am often sucked into the vortex of mindless use of the device. Do I really need to see what my Twitter feed is telling me every ten minutes? Do I need to keep constantly updated to all the Discord, Slack, and other group apps I’m part of? Do I need to check my email when I’m out in the garden?

More than once, I’m ashamed to admit, I have been with family or friends and excused myself to go to the bathroom in order to check my smartphone. That’s the behavior of an addict! 

Designed to Distract

But beyond the wasted time, the smartphone is a distraction. After all, that time I spent on my smartphone could have been spent doing something else. The smartphone became a distraction from the things I value most, such as my family and time spending reading and studying. 

I also believe that the constant distractions of the smartphone keep my mind from going deep. My smartphone-based distractions stay with me even when I’m not on my smartphone—I end up thinking about what I was doing on my phone even when I’m not using my phone. My brain has lost its ability to really focus.

When I was in a Master’s program in the early 1990’s, I would spend 10-12 hours a day reading deep theological texts. I look back on that time and two things come to mind: (1) that was a time of deep and enjoyable learning; and (2) there is absolutely no way I could do that today—my brain simply wouldn’t handle it!

Of course, the distractions I’m talking about aren’t limited to smartphones; the whole internet ethos is built for distraction. Yet smartphones take those distractions to a new, personal level, one we carry with us everywhere.

All the Benefits, Few of the Costs

Of course, it’s not like the dangers of smartphone usage are a new revelation to me. Over the years I’ve been uncomfortable with my smartphone usage for many of the reasons I’ve mentioned, and I’ve done all the tricks to try to reduce it: grayscaling the screen, removing apps, turning on Do Not Disturb mode during certain time frames. While each of these tricks would help temporarily, I always fell back to my bad habits.

So now I’ve made the biggest adjustment: remove the smartphone from the equation. I decided to buy the Light Phone II, an admittedly expensive dumbphone. But in addition to having limited functionality, it is purposefully designed not to be used. It has an e-ink screen, which is less stimulating to the brain, and it has soothing, short notification sounds, so you don’t get jacked up every time you receive a message.

But does this mean I’m off social media and all the various messaging services? Does it mean I’ve become a luddite hermit?

No, I haven’t left any platform or service (yet). Instead, I’ve shifted how I interact with them: now I use them only on my desktop computer.

Using Twitter via a browser on a Mac is a radically different experience from using the app on my iPhone. First, I’m tethered to my desk, so I can’t keep up with the latest tweets unless I’m in my home office. This means my brain isn’t thinking about what’s going on at Twitter once I leave my office, either (although it admittedly took about a week or so for my brain to detox from those bad habits).

Second, the overall screen experience is less frenetic. I’ve installed a browser extension that removes Twitter’s “What’s Happening” recommendations as well as ads. So now I get on Twitter, see what’s going on, maybe send a tweet or two, then move on to other activities. It’s not a constant and demanding companion, but instead just a tool I control.

And it’s not only Twitter: all my messaging apps are on my desktop, so people can communicate with me, but I am not in a constant state of being “on notice” that I might have to respond to someone at any hour of the day. I’ll get to it when I get back to my computer.

Dealing with the Downsides

I admit there are downsides to getting rid of my smartphone.

First, there is a chance I’ll miss out on some breaking news or message. Honestly, I don’t see that as a big deal. Humanity survived for millennia without constant access to information; I figure I can as well.

Second, some of the tools on my smartphone were quite useful, such as the camera and GPS. I do have a cheap camera that I can bring with me if I want, and I’ve actually found that being somewhere without a camera makes me engage in the moment more deeply, instead of wondering if I can “share” the moment on social media. Not having a GPS is a real issue, but I don’t do a lot of traveling and I’ll likely buy a stand-alone GPS at some point.

The biggest downside is in messaging with people, particularly family and close friends. They are used to being able to message me any time day or night and me responding relatively quickly if I’m awake. Now they will have to learn that I might not get back to them for a while, particularly when I’m not in my office. 

But I don’t foresee that being a significant long-term issue. Most messages aren’t urgent anyway, and those who need to contact me for emergency situations can still reach me on my dumbphone. For most situations, that’s probably not a big deal and just a learning process for everyone involved. Yes, I might miss out on a funny exchange in the family chat, but I should be able to survive that.

Being Intentional

I’m not arguing that ditching the smartphone is for everyone, but I do think we should all be more intentional in how we use new technologies. Instead of just embracing them because everyone else is, we should think through our needs and our actual usage, making a cost/benefit analysis and deciding if and how they will become part of our lives.

For me, at least for now, the costs of a smartphone greatly outweigh the benefits and so it will not be a part of my life.

The post I’m Going Dumb appeared first on Eric Sammons.

I’m going to break one of my main internet rules with this post. Many years ago I decided to not write about Catholic “personalities” that I consider generally on “our side.” I try to focus only on general issues that impact all Catholics, such as what’s going on at the Vatican or at the USCCB. I will sometimes comment on something from a major personality like Fr. James Martin who lead many astray. I’m not interested in dissecting what Catholic Personality X thinks or analyzing the spat between Catholic Personality Y and Catholic Personality Z. Let them do their work and I’ll do mine.

But I’m violating that rule here, and I hope I don’t regret it. I want to write about my friend Steve Skojec, the founder of OnePeterFive (which, full disclosure, I’ve written for quite frequently). Over the years Steve has been one of the most prominent online voices for traditional Catholicism, and he often says things that no one else is willing to say, but needs to be said. His style is much different than mine—more confrontational, more raw, more personal—but I always felt we were kindred spirits: two flawed people trying to make sense of what’s going on in the Church in a passionate desire to save souls.

Over the past year, however, Steve has become quite disillusioned with the traditional Catholic movement, and apparently Catholicism in general. This all came to a head last week when he recounted that his traditional Catholic parish priest denied Steve’s soon-to-be-born son of baptism and his 8-year-old son of his First Communion, due to their family’s lack of attendance at the parish during Covidtide. For Steve, this seemed to be the final straw.

Now, to be clear: I’m not writing to litigate whether the priest was justified in denying the sacraments or not. We only have one side of the story, and it’s possible the fault lies entirely on Steve’s end. It’s also possible the priest is essentially correct but handled the situation terribly. But it’s also possible the priest is horribly, terribly wrong. Or it could be a little bit of all three. I just don’t know. That being said, I am sympathetic to the argument that it’s unjust that only one side can go public on this—due to the nature of the situation, the priest can’t really publicly defend himself.

(A quick aside: just being a member of the parish does not mean you have “inside” information on this particular situation. I have personally had a situation in which my family was treated horribly by a well-respected FSSP priest, and I’m sure many if not most of the parishioners would have ferociously defended him if I even suggested publicly that he wronged us. He was beyond criticism in their eyes because he was a traditional priest.)

So although I know a number of Catholics are rushing to the priest’s defense while others are attacking him, I think taking sides is a mistake, as we simply don’t know all the details. And ultimately, this event was just the final push for Steve, who was already moving in this direction before this particular event happened.

Beyond the details of that particular situation is the more pressing issue: Steve’s public abandonment of traditional Catholicism and possibly the Faith itself (it’s unclear to me exactly what he believes right now, and perhaps he doesn’t even know himself). No matter the details of the issue with his parish priest, Steve feels wronged, and the fact is, he has been wronged. Because we’ve all been wronged. We’ve been wronged by members of the hierarchy who have continually sold out our Faith and who have gaslighted us time and time again into compliance while they deny Our Lord time and time again. Jesus has harsh words for such hypocritical religious leaders because they wrong the faithful and thus lead many astray.

I’m particularly sympathetic to one of Steve’s main complaints about today’s Church: that the faithful are guilted into accepting all sorts of malfeasance and heresy amongst the clergy, with the threat of eternal damnation hanging over our heads if we dare speak up. Steve calls it spiritual abuse, and he’s right. I know in my own life that it took years for me to gather the courage to speak out against problems in the Church because deep down I was afraid that doing so made me a “bad Catholic.” And we know where bad Catholics end up on the Day of Judgement, don’t we?

Steve has been wronged. And so have all Catholics who have had to endure the modern Church. Yet Steve is also wrong. He’s wrong about the path he’s taking, in spite of being largely right about the problems in the Church and even in some instances about the traditional Catholic movement.

One of the biggest issues with being wronged, as Steve has been, is that it becomes difficult to see what is right. He and I have had a long debate over the state of traditional Catholicism today. He sees it becoming more toxic and more crackpotish. I see it as thriving and drawing in many great and beautiful people.

Perhaps some of our different perspectives come from different personalities. But perhaps some of it comes from the fact that while Steve has stayed home on Sundays for the past year, I’ve been at Mass each Sunday meeting new people literally every week. These are often refugees from “good” parishes that locked down for COVID, and they are stable, solid Catholics who don’t know—and don’t care—about the online debates Steve often engages in. They—and not some yahoos with Twitter accounts—are the future of traditional Catholicism.

Again, being wronged makes it hard to see when things are right. One of Steve’s apparent problems with his current parish is that most of the parishioners have to watch Mass on a screen from an overflow hall. This is a real problem, and Steve’s right to see that it’s not the way things should be. But isn’t the fact that a traditional parish needs overflow space a good thing, something to rejoice over? Yes, maybe the pastor isn’t handling the overflow correctly, but it’s a good problem to have, nonetheless. Here is where a wronged person can only see the wrong, instead of realizing a lot of right is, well, right in front of him.

Being wronged also makes it difficult to see the deeper realities of what is right: the sacraments, the Catholic spiritual tradition, the saints, Our Lord Himself—all those aspects of the Faith that first drew us to a committed Catholicism. Those things didn’t disappear just because some (many) members of the hierarchy have behaved badly and wronged us. But when we are wronged, those wrongs consume our souls and block out the beauty of the Catholic Faith. Yet the rights of Catholicism quite literally infinitely outweigh the wrongs.

Because of this inability to see the right due to being continually wronged, Steve is wrong on the path he is taking. We should not stop practicing the traditional Catholic Faith, but should instead embrace it more deeply. As St. Peter said to Our Lord after many disciples were scandalized by the Eucharist, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life” (Jn 6:68). Yes, many wrongs exist in the Church today, but she is still the Bride of Christ with great, if often covered, beauty. We should not leave Catholicism because of the wrongs within the Church, since only in Catholicism will all wrongs eventually be righted.

One final point. I don’t think our response to situations like Steve’s should be to blame the wronged person and see him as the problem to fix. While I know Steve can be abrasive online and so has made some enemies out of people who should be friends, I’m still disappointed that so many traditional Catholics have “cancelled” Steve so quickly.

When a brother is wronged, you don’t point the accusing finger at the brother even if you don’t think he handled being wronged the best way. You direct your ire to the real problem: the ones doing the wrong-ing. And I’m not talking about Steve’s parish priest, since, again, we don’t know all the details of that situation. I’m talking about the Church leaders who have wronged us over the past few decades in so many ways. Those wicked men should be the ones we spend our energy opposing, not a wronged soul like Steve’s.

The post Wronged and Yet Wrong appeared first on Eric Sammons.

Can you imagine an Internet where anonymity wasn’t allowed? Where some technical advance made it so that if you posted online, everyone would know exactly who posted it? Edward Snowden can, and it frightens him.

Snowden argues that anonymity is a bedrock of a free Internet, and worries that in our cancel culture, everyone would be a target, which would have a silencing effect:

“The forced identicality of online and offline lives, and the permanency of the Internet’s record, augur against forgiveness, and advise against all mercy. Technological omniscience, and the ease of accessibility, promulgate a climate of censorship that in the so-called free world instantiates as self-censorship: people are afraid to speak and so they speak the party’s words… or people are afraid to speak and so they speak no words at all…”

Snowden brings up valid points, and with the rise of oppressive Big Tech, it’s true that anything we write on the Internet will be used against us. But I’ll admit I’m not as enthusiastic about Internet anonymity as Snowden is. While it’s clear that there are good and valid reasons to write behind a pseudonym (think: whistleblowers, people living in oppressive regimes, etc.), it also has its bad—and even ugly—aspects as well.

Legitimate Reasons

Again, to be clear, I’m not opposed to using a pseudonym online. Obviously there are situations where it would be foolish to use your real name; think, for example, of the journalist living in China reporting on its totalitarian government.

And it doesn’t even have to be that serious of a reason to remain anonymous. If, for example, you want to be on a social media platform like Twitter to simply read what others are saying, there’s no urgent need to use your own name. If you just want an account to follow your children’s families, again, there’s no need for your real name.

Likewise, there are situations where it might be personally dangerous to post with your real name online. Perhaps you have an abusive ex-husband, or some other bad situation. It makes sense to be super-careful about what you post online.

And in general, privacy is important, and so not using your real name can help maintain at least a bit of that privacy (but don’t be deluded into thinking that Big Tech doesn’t know it’s you who is posting).

The Power of Your Name

Yet, even though there may be legitimate reasons to hide your identity, using a pseudonym online has consequences. You should not expect others to listen to you as much as someone who uses his real name. When you put your name behind something, it carries more weight—you are willing to stake your reputation to it. You also risk being publicly wrong, including people knowing it is you who is wrong. Your name gives more seriousness to your words.

Particularly in the area of evangelization, using your real name is essential. Why should someone listen to your passionate words against abortion, for example, if they don’t even know who you are? Maybe you are just making the argument to start an online fight—there’s no way for others to know what you really believe. It’s naive to think that people just listen to the words of the argument; they also want to know the person behind those words.

Ugly Anonymity

Beyond the power behind using your own name, being anonymous has its inherent downfalls. As I wrote recently for Crisis Magazine, anonymity often breeds toxicity:

“The internet is fundamentally a pseudonymous medium. Even someone like me who uses his real name and photo on social media is still somewhat pseudonymous to others online. After all, what do you really know about someone who you’ve only encountered on the internet? And of course the most vicious commentary usually originates with those who make themselves truly unknown by using a fake name and avatar. That sense of anonymity breeds toxicity.”

We’ve all experienced it: you post something innocuous and in response you get a comment so over-the-top in its attack you wonder for a moment if a human being could have actually said it. Then you quickly notice that the person who made the comment is using a pseudonym. Of course. After all, it’s highly unlikely this same person would ever say this under his real name, much less in person. The cloak of anonymity removes the human element and turns every exchange in a battle to be won.

We were made to interact with others; it’s in our very being: “It is not good that the man should be alone” (Gen. 2:18). Yet that interaction is designed, for the most part, to be truly inter-personal: we read each other’s body language far more than we realize. 

All Internet interactions take that away, but anonymous interactions do so exponentially. How do I react when “DeusVult123” tells me that I’m a closet Marxist? What am I supposed to think when “BLMforLife” accuses me of being a racist? It’s a wasted interaction that serves no real benefit.

Striving for the Real

Ultimately, all internet interactions fall short of true, interpersonal—and in-person—interactions. But by using our real names when we want to have a real conversation (or argument), we at least take a step in the right direction. 

I’m not calling for the end of Internet anonymity; it has its useful purposes. But I am calling for Catholics who wish to promote the Faith in the online world to realize that their words will have far more power if they back them by their names, and may also prevent them from falling into some of the more toxic forms of online discourse.

The post Internet Anonymity: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly appeared first on Eric Sammons.

The Bible is the inspired Word of God. As such, every single word is authored by God and thus has meaning for our lives. The Bible is meant to change us, to make us more like Christ. We don’t conform the Bible to our lives, we conform our lives to the Bible.

However, even if we believe this with all our hearts, that doesn’t mean it’s easy to do. Sometimes there will be passages that seem to float off the page and speak directly to our hearts. But other times there are passages that challenge us, and if we are being honest with ourselves, don’t really add up. In those cases, we have to wrestle with the Scriptures.

Do Not Be Anxious

This past Sunday’s TLM Gospel passage is one such passage for me. It’s a passage I’ve struggled with since I first engaged it back in high school. The difficult part for me are these words from our Lord: “do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on” (Mt. 6:25). Christ then goes on to explain that God takes care of the birds and the lilies of the field, so of course He’ll take care of you too.

This is a problematic passage for me because I’m a control freak. I like to plan out the future as much as possible, and I typically have at least a low level of anxiety about the future at all times. I’ve learned to manage it over the years, but it never goes away. 

But here’s the thing: I’ve found that my anxiety has helped me take my responsibilities as a husband and father seriously. My God-given role as provider for my family obligates me to plan for the future on some level, and I do that because I’m anxious about it. So when Christ tells me to “not be anxious about your life,” my first thought it, “but what about being anxious about my wife or my children’s lives? Is that okay?” I’m not trying to be cheeky; I’m trying to understand Our Lord’s words in the context of my state of life. 

And I have another problem with this passage, truth be told. What about all the people throughout history who have not had enough food or clothing for today, much less tomorrow? I’m not talking about “poor” people with big-screen TVs, or even those who have become destitute due to their own life choices. I mean the truly destitute, particularly in foreign lands, who have nothing. They did nothing wrong, other than be born in the wrong place at the wrong time. It seems too easy to just tell them, “Don’t be anxious! God will take care of you like He does the birds and the lilies!”

Whining Like a Child

Now, know all the standard interpretations: Christ isn’t condemning prudent planning, Original Sin impacts the world in many dire ways, and so forth. But none of these standard interpretations really work for me. Perhaps I’m being too pig-headed, or just too dense, but I have a hard time reconciling Our Lord’s words with reality.

Yet, in the end, that’s exactly what I’m called to do. I know the Lord is right in what he says. I know we need to trust in God far more radically than my control freak nature wants to. So I have to accept that my protestations of this difficult passage are simply the whinings of a child who is told to do something he doesn’t like. 

I will continue to wrestle with the passage, likely for the rest of my life, but wrestling is not rejecting. It’s understanding that we don’t always understand. After all, if every verse in the Bible were easy to understand, what purpose would it serve?

The post Wrestling with the Bible appeared first on Eric Sammons.

Catholics have long had an uneasy relationship with money. As our Lord said, “You cannot serve both God and mammon” (a word that means “riches”). He also told us that “Blessed are the poor.” Many of the greatest saints, including my favorite, St. Francis of Assisi, embraced poverty and saw it as a path to sanctity. Because of all this, many Catholics are naturally adverse to money. Some go so far as to assume that one cannot be rich and a faithful Catholic (something our Lord and the Church have never taught). 

This negative attitude toward money seems to have infiltrated some Catholics’ view of Bitcoin, the newest form of money. Most news stories about Bitcoin are about its price changes and how people have gotten rich off it by doing nothing more than holding it (or “hodling” it, as Bitcoiners would say). This has led to criticisms of Bitcoin and accusations that Bitcoiners didn’t earn their riches and even that those who promote Bitcoin have fallen into a new form of idolatry. 

I’m not going to dig too deep into these criticisms (which are mostly based on a misunderstanding of Bitcoin, a misunderstanding of economics, or a misunderstanding of Catholic teaching on money), but I would like to address a more simple issue: is Bitcoin moral? Is the technology itself moral, and is it moral for a Catholic to hold and use Bitcoin?

Can a Technology be Moral or Immoral?

To be precise, Bitcoin, like any technology, is amoral. It is neither good nor bad, much like a pencil or a knife is neither good nor bad. It is how the tool is used that matters—one can use a pencil to write slanderous words against another, or can use it to write a beautiful poem about the love of God. Likewise with Bitcoin: it is just a piece of software, and thus isn’t good or bad.

But that’s a cop-out answer. While all tools may be amoral, some tools are more likely to be used for evil than good. A nuclear bomb, for example, is an amoral tool, but it’s almost impossible to use in a morally good fashion since it inevitably will kill innocent non-combatants. Some technologies lead people to sin more easily than others.

By that standard, then, is Bitcoin more directed toward the good or the bad? I think we can discover this by comparing it to its main “competition”, i.e., the U.S. dollar.

Printing Dollars

Many things differentiate Bitcoin from the dollar, the primary being its money supply. Bitcoin adds to its money supply on a fixed schedule that is public for all to see (currently 6.25 BTC are added to the network approximately every 10 minutes). Further, there is a maximum supply of 21 million BTC that will eventually be created. This limit is hard-coded in the software, and is essentially impossible to change.

Contrast that with the dollar: the money supply is controlled by the Federal Reserve, and no fixed schedule exists for when new dollars are created, and there is no maximum supply limit—dollars can be created to infinity if the Fed wants (and it seems to want that). 

This feature alone makes Bitcoin more “moral” than dollars. When a small group of Elites can flood the money supply, thus devaluing the real purchasing power of an individual’s saved dollars, they are for all practical purposes stealing from those individuals. The senior on a fixed income who is making $30,000/year makes less every single year because of the inflated money supply.

Bitcoin, by design, prevents this form of theft.

Funding Wars

Another feature of Bitcoin that makes it morally superior to the dollar is the fact that a government cannot control it (and in fact, no one controls it). History has shown that governments who control their currency always use it to pay for their bad decisions, particularly war. Most wars are unpopular with regular citizens, and these citizens do not support leaders raising their taxes to pay for these unpopular wars. But with control of the money supply, politicians don’t have to get approval before going to war—they can pay for it through printing new money.

The adoption of Bitcoin can lead to more peace in the world.

Trusting Third Parties with Your Money

In addition, Bitcoin’s decentralized nature also leads to it being more moral than the dollar. When you use your credit card at a store, you are trusting a third party with that transaction (often multiple third parties): your bank, credit card company, the store itself. You have given all these parties access to your bank account. Beside the fact that they could potentially use it to make fraudulent charges (which might be reimbursed to you, but will increase costs to the bank which will be passed to you in fees), the banking system also has the ability to “shut off” your account, denying you access to your own money.

On the other hand, one of the mottos of Bitcoin is that you can “be your own bank.” You can have complete and total control of your money, and when you pay someone, they only have access to what you send to them, nothing else. This leads to far less fraud, and far less ability for a “trusted” third party to abscond with your funds. 

Bitcoin better protects your money. 

Secure Money

One final aspect of Bitcoin that makes it more moral than the dollar is the difficulty of counterfeiting it. While the government has made strides to prevent the counterfeiting of dollars, it is practically impossible to counterfeit Bitcoin. This not only prevents the sinful act of counterfeiting itself, but it prevents the virtual theft of other Bitcoins through devaluation—counterfeiting a currency has the same outcome as the “legitimate” inflation of the money supply.

Bitcoin prevents the debasement of its value.

The Bitcoin Religion?

One more point comparing Bitcoin to the dollar: any negative uses of Bitcoin, such as for buying drugs or funding terrorists, are equally applicable to the dollar. After all, it’s cash that king for illegal activities.

The superior features of Bitcoin get its proponents excited. Yes, that excitement can be excessive at times, even giving Bitcoiners a religious feel. While I wouldn’t say I’ve seen it fall into idolatry as some have claimed, I also know that one should not judge the tool based on some overenthusiastic followers.

For example, football can be an enjoyable sport, but many in this country treat it as an idol, worshipping at the local stadium each Sunday. But that excessiveness doesn’t negate the sport itself—it just shows that there is a religious hole in many people today that needs to be filled. And when the true Faith does a poor job of evangelizing, other activities will take its place, including Bitcoin.

So, is Bitcoin moral? I’d say it’s far more moral than the U.S. dollar. While the love of any form of money is the root of evil (1 Timothy 6:10), money itself is not evil. And in the case of Bitcoin, it’s a form of money that is less prone to tempt people toward evil than other forms of money.

If you want to know more about Bitcoin, you can buy my book “Bitcoin Basics: 101 Questions and Answers,” which was written six years ago, but still lays out the fundamentals of Bitcoin.

The post The Morality of Bitcoin appeared first on Eric Sammons.

As Christmas approaches, many Catholics are thinking of gifts for their loved ones. But in today’s world, many of us don’t want to shop at the Amazons and other Big Box stores, which promote values contrary to Catholicism and import most of their goods from overseas.

To address this, my wife has compiled a buying guide to get you started on avoiding the big box stores and overseas products. It is by *no means* complete, but it will get your juices flowing, introducing you or reintroducing you to some great resources, and probably leading you to many more that aren’t listed here.

My wife made an effort to include only shops that provide domestically-made items, but her research time was limited. Likewise, we didn’t vet the theology of every shop on this list. Please research the matters that are important to you; hopefully, this guide will get you started.

You can download a PDF of the Guide here.

Feel free to add any other shops in the comments below!

A Catholic Gift Guide 2021

Contemporary Artists

FlorLarios, Etsy – folk art

Adoramus Te Studio, Etsy – prints and decor

Dovetail Ink, Etsy – illustrations and printables

Amberose Marie – including prolife themes

John Henry Folley – classical style art

Opus Americanum Studio – embroidery

Home Shrine Icons – icons written by a contemporary artist

Apparel

Catholic to the Max

Sacra Indumenta – incredibly beautiful baptismal gowns (site may not be completed)

Outrageous Mom – Catholic scarves ​​

Sock Religious – yep, socks.

Brick House in the City – Catholic t-shirts

Classic Art 

Catholic to the Max

Popular Art, Statues, Home Decor

Catholic to the Max

House of Joppa

Smelty Squirrel – ornaments, wooden goods

Candles

Salem Studio – beeswax candles that smell like chrism!, housewares

Corda Candles – Catholic saint candles from the *heart*land (get it?)

Bee Haven Honey – beeswax candles

Bowered and Bare – soaps, lotions, beard care; candles

Water Bottles

Simple Hydration – check out the patented design! Also apparel. 

Books and instruction

Sacred Art Series – this is a project that should be supported. The Gospels of St. Luke and St. John edition is fantastic for children who are too old for a children’s Bible and still intimidated by an adult’s Bible.

Monk Manual – intentional living

Lost Art Press – woodworking resources

Rosaries and Scapulars

Random Brilliants, Etsy – rosaries, pocket rosaries, chaplets 

Meadows of Grace, Etsy

Mantle of Mary, Etsy – very sturdy scapulars

Simply Chic Cositas, Etsy 

Rugged Rosaries – including paracord rosaries and scapulars

Our Lady’s Armory – paracord and other rosaries with a lifetime guarantee

Doer of Knots – sturdy knotted cord rosaries made by me  

Food & Drink

Steubenville Popcorn Company – Try the caramel-cheddar, take my word for it 

Winans Chocolates + Coffee – The name says it all

Willow’s Baked Goods – gluten free bakery that ships directly to customers

Monks’ Bread

Holy Cross Abbey – I wasn’t aware that anyone other than my mother ate fruitcake, but their creamed honey is amazing.

Mystic Monk – C O F F E E

Monastery Candy

Trappistine CandyJuice Plus – recommended representative, Natalie Leylo

Leather Goods and handbags

OréMoose – can’t beat the name

Sandpiper Stitching – handbags

Sacrament gifts

Clarey Clayworks – Catholic ceramics

Catholic to the Max

Jewelry 

Love and Honor Jesus

House of Joppa

Clara Joh 

The One Simple Life

On This Day Designs

Baby & Kid Stuff

Chews Life

Outrageous Mom – Suuuuuper cute handmade baby items

Almond Rod Toys – saint blocks 

Personal Care 

Glory and Shine – soaps, lotions, beard care, etc. One beard balm features a picture of St. Maximilian Kolbe. Makes sense to me. 

Bowered and Bare – soaps, lotions, beard care; candles

Paper Goods, stickers, and games 

Mourning Dove, Etsy

Classic Catholic, Etsy – vintage greeting cards

Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles – also music

Full of Grace – vintage images  

Saint Cards – card game

Relics of Old Decency 

House of Joppa

Carrot Top Paper Shop, Etsy 

Pelican Printery House, Etsy – beautiful traditional greeting cards and printables

Apps

Hallow – “meditation, prayer and sleep app”

The post 2021 Catholic Gift Guide appeared first on Eric Sammons.

[Note: I am not a professional investment advisor and this is not investment advice. It’s just my opinion.]

Inflation is making us all poorer. I’ve said it before and I’ll keep saying it. With an “official” rate at 6.2% (the real rate is likely double that), we are all losing money every day. Traditionally one way to combat the effects of inflation is through investment. When I was younger, you could have a savings account making 6-7% interest, and with 2% inflation, you’d make a little money each year. 

Now, however, with inflation likely in double digits and savings accounts yielding less than a percent of a percent return, we all are looking elsewhere to park our savings.

One popular option is stocks and bonds. However, bonds yields are terrible, making them little better than a savings account, and stocks right now are overpriced and due for a correction. Are there any other options?

If you know me, you already know what I think: cryptocurrencies. Yes, they can be incredibly volatile. Yes, they can be risky. And yes, you should never invest more than you can afford to lose. But in today’s economy, it just seems to make sense to me to at least put some savings into crypto.

The best path, in my opinion (again: not investment advice!), is to simply park some of your savings in Bitcoin and perhaps a few other top cryptocurrencies (like Ethereum) and just leave it there for years. It’s likely your rate of return will be quite satisfactory over that time frame.

However, the path may be bumpy. You may see downturns of 50% or more. So if you need to access your money during that time, you could be in trouble. Think of money put into BTC as being held in a vault you can’t access for 5-10 years.

But there is another, less bumpy, crypto option: yield-bearing stablecoins.

What is a stablecoin? It is a cryptocurrency backed by an equivalent amount of fiat currency and it is therefore always valued at $1/coin. So if you have 100 USDC (a popular stablecoin), it is always worth $100. There is a centralized trusted third-party behind every stablecoin, and you have to trust that the issuing authority really is holding equivalent funds. This is one reason I don’t use Tether (USDT), because I don’t trust that it’s really backed by equivalent dollar amounts. But I do trust other stablecoins, particularly USDC and GUSD. 

A stablecoin essentially acts like a fiat currency, but it is more efficient to use in digital transactions. So why hold stablecoins rather than just fiat? Because many institutions pay high yields if you hold stablecoins on their platforms. They do this because they are able to use your funds for crypto-lending and other financial activities.

By holding stablecoins in a yield-bearing account, one removes the typical crypto volatility from the equation, while producing some impressive returns. 

While I personally think holding BTC long-term is the best investment strategy, yield-bearing stablecoins allows one to have cash (or its equivalent) on hand, removes volatility from the equation, and still produces decent returns.

What is the risk? You are trusting your money with a third party. You already do this when you have money in the bank, but a bank is insured by the federal government. Crypto companies are not. Personally I think many such companies have matured to the point that they can be trusted, but your personal risk tolerance may say otherwise. It is possible to lose everything in one of these companies, although I think it unlikely.

Here are a few companies I use, and I feel like they are all solid companies, but of course I can’t guarantee their long-term survival (again, none of these are FDIC-insured, so if they go belly-up, you’re out of luck). 

Note: all links include my referral code (except Gemini, which seems to have discontinued their referral program), so I do get a small payment if you use the links. But so do you, so it’s win-win.

The Big Boys

Coinbase

Link: https://www.coinbase.com/join/ericsammons

Coinbase is the granddaddy of crypto services. It has been around since 2012, and it’s established itself as a safe, reliable company. The likelihood of Coinbase shuttering its doors is about the same as a standard bank at this point. If you aren’t going to hold your BTC in your own wallet (which is the best idea), then holding it at Coinbase is the next best thing.

Of course, with less risk you get less reward. Coinbase offers some yield-bearing cryptocurrencies, but their rates on stablecoins are pretty pitiful. Their best yield is on Tezos (not a stablecoin) at 4.63%, which sounds nice compared to a bank savings account, but we’ll see isn’t that great in the cryptoworld, and Tezos is volatile. Coinbase’s rates on stablecoins are less than 2%.

One additional nice feature of Coinbase is that they do offer a Debit Card, which allows you to earn rewards in Bitcoin or other cryptocurrencies, and you can spend stablecoins just as easy as cash.

Gemini

Link: https://www.gemini.com/

Gemini is most well-known for being founded by the Winklevi twins of Facebook fame. This is another established, well-funded company that’s likely to stand the test of time.

Gemini offers much better rates than Coinbase—up to 8.05% on their stablecoin Gemini Dollar. 

The Up-and-Comers

BlockFi

Link: https://blockfi.com/?ref=5cb2344d

BlockFi is one of my favorite crypto companies, and it is constantly improving its services. Currently you can earn 9% on stablecoins, which is better than Gemini and far exceeds bank rates.

BlockFI also offers a Bitcoin rewards credit card. It works like any credit card, but you receive 1.5% reward in Bitcoin (or other cryptocurrency of your choice). Not long ago I replaced my Amazon credit card for the BlockFi card, as I didn’t like my rewards being based in a “woke” company. Now my rewards are in something that can never be made woke!

Celcius

Link: https://celsiusnetwork.app.link/124381bbe1

Celcius is similar to BlockFi. It has rates as high as 10.2% right now. Celcius also offers some competitive rates on loans if you back them with your crypto holdings. I’m not a big fan of loans in general, but it’s nice to have the option if you need cash quickly.

Addendum: A Mobile Wallet

Strike

Link: https://invite.strike.me/U3ZRJO

I want to mention one other crypto company. While not offering yield-bearing accounts, Strike is a major advancement in a practical Bitcoin wallet. It allows you to buy, sell, and spend BTC cheaply and quickly. It’s not intended as a way to hold a lot of BTC, but instead a way to transact BTC with others. As we build alternative economies, we need to start transacting in cryptocurrencies (instead of services like Paypal or GoFundMe which can shut you down), and Strike is a good way to start.

Conclusion

There’s no guarantee that these companies will continue to offer the rates they currently do, and not even a guarantee that they will continue to exist—there are rumblings that federal and state governments are looking to regulate them, which usually is bad news for the little guy. But in a time of zero yield savings, inflated stocks, and worthless bonds, having a way to generate some yield for your savings is a nice option to have.

Oh, and did I mention that this isn’t investment advice?

The post Keeping Up With Inflation appeared first on Eric Sammons.

It’s an annual tradition in recent years for Catholics—particularly priests—to downplay the idea of fasting or abstaining from certain foods during Lent. 

“What really matters is fasting from sin!”
“Take time in Lent to be kinder to others!”

This is an odd trend, to say the least. After all, for over a millennium Catholics have focused on physical penances during Lent, particularly fasting and abstinence. Now, however, it seems that we want to completely drop this aspect of Lent from the Catholic consciousness.

The oddity of this particularly struck me as I was praying Lauds from the old Divine Office this Lent. Most days the Collect for the day (which matches the Collect from that day’s Mass) explicitly mentions “fasting” or “our fast.” And on the few days it doesn’t mention fasting, it typically references abstaining from or denying ourselves food. The assumption in these prayers of the Church is that everyone is fasting.

I don’t remember these references from my days of praying the modern Liturgy of the Hours, so I decided to do a check. I went through the Collects for both the new and the old calendars for the 2nd and 3rd weeks of Lent. I felt that those two weeks would be representative of the overall theme of the Church’s Lenten prayers before and after the changes made in the late 1960’s. I also skipped the Collects for the Sundays because I understand those might not reference fasting and penance.

What did I find? Fasting is almost never mentioned in our modern Collects. In the twelve days of those Collects, it mentions our “observance” twice, “penance” once, and that we must “chasten our bodies” once. In the other eight Collects, there is no mention of penance, fasting, or anything particularly penitential.

In contrast, the old Collects are rich in references to fasting. Six times the Collect explicitly mentions fasting, four times it references abstaining from or denying ourselves food, and once it notes our “observance.” The only time nothing of this matter is mentioned is on the Thursday of the 3rd Week of Lent, which is a prayer about Sts. Cosmas and Damian and an old holdover from the Rome Lenten stations. 

Here’s a chart of the two sets of Collects (click to magnify):

So 10 out of 12 Collects in the old Calendar speak of our denial of food, while none of the new Collects do (with only four even noting anything particularly penitential). 

Realizing this, is it any wonder that so many Catholics, especially priests, would now downplay the discipline of fasting in Lent? They never hear it even mentioned in the official prayers of the Church! It’s as if this ancient discipline has been erased from our collective consciousness. 

Lex orandi, lex credendi, lex vivendi: The law of what is prayed is what is believed is what is lived. If we remove every mention of a disciple from our prayers, then surely the practice of that discipline will soon be removed in practice as well.

The post The Discipline That Must Not Be Named appeared first on Eric Sammons.

In the pantheon of great American presidents, Abraham Lincoln stands tall. Instrumental in ending the vile institution of slavery in our country, he also kept the country united when it appeared the American experiment had failed. In Lincoln’s time it was not a foregone conclusion that the United States would reach its 100^th birthday intact; only by his actions did the country remain “one nation” and “indivisible.”

Since the time of Lincoln, advocating for the division of the “indivisible” amounts to political heresy. The United States can only add states and territories; it can never lose any. To suggest otherwise deserves derision and contempt for being unworthy of political discourse. Nevertheless, I’m going to suggest it: the United States has become too big and too unwieldy to represent its citizens. I believe it should break into smaller, more manageable nations. Begin lighting the fire to burn the heretic at the stake!

The United States, Not the Divine States

I want you to be American!

Why’s it so unthinkable in modern discourse to consider the breakup of the United States? Like all countries, the United States has developed its own founding mythology. A particularly strong one, too. We are the “city on the hill,” ordained by God to bring freedom to the world. Because of our country’s predominantly Christian background, this mythology often intertwines with Christian belief. Yet nothing in the teachings of Jesus or in the Scriptures speak of the necessity of a 50-state United States. There’s no reason to believe our country has a destiny to remain as it’s currently configured until Christ’s Second Coming. Over the centuries empires have risen and fallen; the fate of the United States will be no different. Instead of clinging to the façade of a great nation until it’s too late, perhaps it would be better to voluntarily break into smaller, more nimble, nations?

For if there is one thing the United States is not, it’s “nimble.” Our country now has over 300 million citizens. But what has grown even faster than the population? The size of the federal government. Unsurprisingly, with greater size has come greater bureaucracy and greater bloat. We see this in the business world all the time. A company becomes successful and grows rapidly. In order to manage the growth, it creates more and more rules and regulations until finally it’s simply crushed under the weight of its own bloat. Governments are not exempt from this process; in fact, they are more prone to it. However, in the case of government, such ossification doesn’t just impact a company’s bottom line, it impacts its citizen’s freedoms. A smaller, more nimble government must be more responsive to its citizens’ needs, and cannot afford to trample on its citizens’ rights. Why? A small group of people can greatly impact a small government. But what can a small group of people do in the face of our leviathan federal government?

Your Vote Counts! Well, Not Really

The impact of your vote.

The sheer size of this country makes a mockery of the idea that a few individuals can “represent” the masses. Every four years we are told we are part of “the most important election of our time” as we go to the polls to select our representatives. 2016 is no different; on our vote, we are told, hinges the future of the republic. Yet does it? We live in a nation of almost 220 million voter-eligible adults, which means my vote amounts to 0.0000005% of the total voting population (and that’s rounding up). Does anyone seriously think my vote will make any difference in the outcome?

Compare this to the first years of George Washington’s presidency, when he only had to represent 3.5 million people. The U.S. governmental system could, in his time, better represent the will of the people. But what might have worked in a small 13-state union doesn’t necessarily work for our modern 50-state behemoth. Even many individual states today dwarf that original population. I live in the state of Florida, which has a population of almost 20 million. Although there are many days Florida appears amazingly homogenous (retired white couple, age 67, husband loves to golf, wife loves to shop, and neither wants your kids anywhere near them), even in this pool there are a wide variety of views and perspectives that are difficult for any one government to represent.

It’s not just the size, either, it’s the diversity. The United States has always prided itself on being a “melting pot” – a diverse collection of cultures, religions, and peoples, who are united for a common purpose. But over the last century the diversity has begun to overwhelm the unity. There’s little in common between a young hipster in Greenwich Village and an old farmer in Nebraska, or between a teacher in Minnesota and a software developer in Silicon Valley. Again, compare that to the United States in the days of George Washington; I’d be willing to bet there was much more commonality between residents of Massachusetts and North Carolina in 1796 than in 2016. Expecting one mammoth government to represent all this diversity borders on insanity.

Objections

How will we defend ourselves?

Some might object that we need a large country in today’s world to defend against threats to this continent. What if Russia were to decide to attack? How could a broken-apart America defend itself? By banding together in times of need. After all, when Nazi Germany threatened all of Europe (and beyond), Allied nations came together to resist it. These Allies even included countries as diverse as the United States and the Soviet Union!

Furthermore, smaller countries would be better suited to resist modern threats such as radical Islamic terrorism. Instead of large bureaucracies like the NSA, Homeland Security, and the TSA, smaller countries could have more nimble forces which protect their citizens against threats without trampling on their liberties. When you are looking for a needle in a 300-million-needle haystack, you don’t mind trampling over a lot of needles to get your man. But if you have a much smaller haystack, you can be more surgical in your work.

Are you calling for a violent overthrow of the government?

Discussing the break-up of the United States brings up a dirty little word: secession. To most Americans, secession means violence. After all, the one time in history states seceded from the United States we witnessed the greatest bloodbath in U.S. history, the Civil War. Yet secession does not have to lead to violence. Consider the Soviet Union. It was possibly the most oppressive, violent State in the history of mankind, but when nations finally seceded from it, not a shot was fired. Armenia. Azerbaijan. Belarus. Estonia. The list could go on; all left the Soviet Union without bloodshed. A country can dissolve into smaller countries without violence. There just has to be acceptance from the populace – and pressure on the ruling elites – that such a breakup represents the best interests of the people.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Parting is such sweet sorrow…

One may believe all this sounds interesting in theory (or one may believe I’m a raving lunatic), but practical realities must eventually be addressed. What exactly would a Dis-United States of America look like? Honestly, I don’t know. I do know this: it should be an organic development that best represents the people. There shouldn’t be a central planning committee to decide, but instead the people in each area would self-determine the direction of their community. Perhaps from Maine to parts of Pennsylvania and Maryland would become the Northeast States of America. The upper midwest states – from North Dakota to Wisconsin – could form a country. Of course, Texas could become its own country (naturally). One country might impose government health-care, another might outlaw abortion, and a third might dismantle the Surveillance State. However it worked out, once they was formed, citizens from anywhere in the former United States could, at least initially, move to the nation they believe best truly represents them, thus strengthening the common ideals of each nation.

One thing is certain: the United States won’t last forever. But the question remains: will we resist change out of some misguided sense of patriotism until the country become so bloated that it crashes under its own weight, or will we transition it to something better, and more representative of the people?

The post The United States of America: Too Big to Succeed? appeared first on Eric Sammons.