This afternoon, I watched Romero in anticipation of using it in my Liberation Theology course. Talking to Brad afterward, I commented that it made me more sympathetic with the Church’s conservative stance — Romero made use of his moral authority as archbishop to probably the greatest degree possible, but he also used it up: at a certain point, his rabble-rousing reached such a level that it was worth it to the government to assassinate even the archbishop. Many observers are frustrated at how little the Church puts its moral authority on the line in concrete situations, but Romero’s example illustrates that doing so doesn’t necessarily get you very far against a determined opponent — and it’s worth remembering that in the modern era many of the situations where the Church has been best-positioned to speak out were “national security states” and therefore not open to persuasion.
In this perspective, I think it’s possible to phrase my argument about Catholic social teaching and the larger papal strategy of which it forms a part in a more sympathetic way. The Church obviously has a variety of moral commitments and ideals that it would like to see actualized in the real world. Let’s grant that the vast majority of higher-ups in the church are 100% sincere in holding those ideals. Nevertheless, the Church’s number one priority is to preserve the availability of the means of grace and to make them as accessible as possible (in terms of extrinsic obstacles — obviously the Church has its own internal standards for how to gain access). And the Church’s belief is that the Catholic Church as an institution must continue in existence for the means of grace to remain available. All of the other goals would be great, but the absolute, non-negotiable priority is keeping the sacramental system running (and hopefully running as smoothly as possible).
So let’s return to Latin American example. As much as we in the United States worry about a “priest shortage,” in the Third World, things are much, much worse. A regime that is corrupt and violent enough to ignore the constant pleas of a Romero is going to be corrupt and violent enough to assassinate him as well. So assume that all the bishops do that — before long, you have no more bishops in the country. And let’s say that the Church as such is labelled subversive (which would be the only logical conclusion if every bishop were a rabble-rouser) — soon all the priests are killed as well. An entire nation is still oppressed, and they’ve lost access to the sacraments. If you’re a high-up Church leader in that country, how does that math play out? I’d say you have to prioritize keeping the sacramental system running, right? And if you’re the pope, you have to recognize the danger that speaking out too concretely about conditions in that specific country stand a real chance of getting the church as such labelled as subversive by a government that is willing and able to extinguish the hierarchy within that country if need be.
The idea of the Church being completely uprooted from a given country might seem exaggerated, but I think we in the First World tend to be a little naive about the kinds of regimes that much of the rest of the world faces. And even if the risk of total extermination is small, think of the consequences if one of those regimes started persecuting the Church as such — people would be afraid to show their face at mass, meaning that even if the sacraments were theoretically available, they would be lying idle. What earthly goal could possibly be worth so thoroughly undercutting the Church’s salvific mission?
Another point that has tended to be missed in these discussions: I’m not exactly criticizing the Church here. It is what it is, and on its own terms, the papal strategy has been amazingly successful. The Church maintains a worldwide influence in the absence of any army or any real coersive force whatsoever. Though a pope like Benedict can sometimes be a PR disaster, the strategy is too robust for any one man to screw up completely. Even if the face of geopolitics changes completely, I think we can be confident that the Catholic Church’s hierarchy will survive and even thrive, keeping the bureaucracy of grace running as smoothly as possible.