"I wish I liked Catholics more."
"They seem just like other people."
"My
dear Charles, that's exactly what they're not--particularly in this
country, where they're so few. It's not just that they're a clique--as a
matter of fact, they're about four cliques all blackguarding each other
half the time--but they've got an entirely different outlook on life;
everything they think important is different from other people. They try
and hide it as much as they can, but it comes out all the time."
- Brideshead Revisited Book I, Chapter 4
Last week John Zmirak at The Catholic Thing posted a
stunningly fed-up rant about "the weirdness, bitterness, crankiness, and the general mediocrity that pervade the Catholic subculture," and how those negative aspects hinder evangelization, especially about Church doctrine on contraception. The Catholic population that actually believes and follows the Church's disapproval of artificial birth control is relatively tiny, and thus "as inbred as a pack of captive cheetahs, with all the dangers of deformity and disease that that implies."
Zmirak warns that "The Church as righteous subculture is unappealing to nearly everyone – including the kids who grow up inside it, who despite all those years of homeschooling and chapel veils frequently flee for what look like saner pastures ... We need to listen to [the secular world's] real questions and objections and do a much better job explaining ourselves. Or else that’s who we’ll go right on talking to – ourselves."
(*Edit: When I included this snarky soundbite, my intention was not to condemn the "homeschooling and chapel veils" set among whom I grew up and greatly respect. I seriously doubt the homeschooler apostasy rate is as high as Zmirak suggests. But I have also seen that no one pious practice is a magic bullet for sanctity and that intelligent young people indeed can be disillusioned by a lack of self-awareness in some traditional Catholic circles.)
It's true; self-righteous dismissal and distrust of Others isn't going to win any converts. It also endangers the few devout believers who do hold fast to beleaguered truths of the faith. Even if you are among the remnant that actually shuns contraception, there plenty of your compatriots ready to warn that you might be Doing It Wrong. Internet discussions about Natural Family Planning and childbearing are notoriously contentious. "Perfect love casts out fear," (1 John 4:18) but there is plenty of "bitterness, crankiness," infighting, and fearmongering in the NFP subculture. Look at any recent article about the morality and ethics of NFP, and you'll see several cliques all blackguarding each other:
- Dire conspiracy theorists sure most people's reasons for postponing pregnancy aren't good enough
- Harried parents paranoid that they should be pregnant again or that they discerned poorly
- Rival method loyalists engaged in combox brawls
- Theologians insensitive to the emotional responses their coldly logical syllogisms elicit
- Infertility martyrs who shame anyone with "lesser" sufferings for complaining
- Glib spouters of the conventional wisdom that anyone struggling with NFP must be lazy and/or selfish, lustful, lacking in faith, or resisting God's will
Is this really the alternative we want to offer the secular world? Instead of getting free birth control pills, you can be part of a tiny subculture that bickers about the minutiae of bodily functions and acts as the pregnancy thought police! Doesn't that sound life-giving and awesome?
My own NFP experience has taught me how toxic fertility scrupulosity can be. Although I've been on board with NFP since I was a teenager, actually using it in my marriage has been a huge test of my faith. I had naively thought that obsessive charting would exempt me from those "lazy" user problems, but in reality the learning curve was steep. In our first months as newlyweds we dealt with much confusion, frustration, and loneliness. Had Theology of the Body cruelly duped us? Irregular charts made my body feel like an enemy and drove me into neurotic data tracking. I worried that God must be punishing us for some secret transgression and that I had failed as a wife. When I mentioned my spiritual conflict in confession, one priest told me this was none of his business and hinted I should just use birth control anyway.
In reality, our problems were simply practical. Three methods, several hundred dollars of classes, and one minor surgery later, it's finally getting better. I now know what kind of charting works best for my personality and my body's habits. What helped me get through this difficult time was compassion from Catholic friends who acknowledged my suffering. Even if their own NFP stories were different, they trusted my judgement and encouraged me to persevere. I'm eternally grateful to the kind Franciscan confessor in neon blue Crocs who told me "Yeah, this NFP stuff can be hard. Most priests have no clue."
I also appreciate the conversation Simcha Fisher has started with her hilarious and insightful book
The Sinner's Guide to Natural Family Planning. She reminds readers that coming to terms with one's fertility requires spiritual growth, but that doesn't mean the NFP crowd should feel "judged and judgey." Only God can analyze fully a couple's hearts and childbearing decisions. Since Simcha's book came out, it's been heartening to see many other Catholic bloggers reveal their own NFP struggles and concur that there is no one-size-fits-all solution.
The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. (Mark 2:27) It's senseless to be Pharisaical towards Catholics who sincerely believe and practice all the Church's teachings.
It's illogical to tell people that following the rules with an imperfect mindset is just as grave a sin as breaking them altogether. If orthodox Catholics are a clique that suspects the worst of its own members, why would anyone in their right mind want to sit with us?
This month's Bright Maidens blog topic is daily devotions. It's perfect timing because I'm in the middle of learning a new one. My in-laws gave us a copy of Shorter Christian Prayer for Christmas, so we're trying to use it together every day.
