Recently, a couple bloggers were discussing the affect blogging had on reading books. One noted that though reading a book was the only true way to fully understand a subject, blogging cut into reading time, while another was more doubtful if this was true. [She is a professor, however, and a quick reader ... this is an important caveat.] After all, if anything, blogging encourages reading books, either by citation (I noted, for instance, TPM recently caught my eye with a recommendation of a book on the fall of the Roman Empire) or by raising a subject that encourages further reading.
But, surely, blogging cuts into necessarily limited reading time. This is true even if, like C-SPAN Booknotes and so forth, the Internet does lead one to find out about many books and subjects that they otherwise might not. OTOH, I would suggest books are not always required to learn about a subject. Articles and so forth often provide a good flavor of a subject, full length volumes sometimes just supplying detail that might be interesting and useful, but not necessarily required. Likewise, one just has so much time to read books, especially for those with eclectic tastes. [And, a reader of this blog might realize even mine focuses particularly on certain subjects.] Anyway, I first read about the book discussed below online, thus this prologue.
Catholicism and American Freedom by John T. McGreevy is an interesting and worthwhile, if flawed, account of Catholic history in the U.S. from the mid-19th Century to the present day. One thing that annoys is the use of the terms "ultramontanism" and Thomistic philosophy without fully explaining what they mean. Yes, the book does note that the former term concerned a Vatican-centered approach reaffirming the importance of the works of St. Thomas of Aquinas as well as "experiential piety centered on miracles" and other devotions such as those honoring the Virgin Mary. Nonetheless, not once do we find out where the term arises. It is simple enough -- it means "beyond the mountains," namely the Vatican. Likewise, a short summary of "Thomistic philosophy" would have been useful, though one can get something of a taste from the text.
The book raises various interesting subjects. It begins with the antebellum period during which the Catholic Church was wary about abolitionism, which along with its allegedly authoritarian/foreign controlled nature (plus the number of immigrants filling its seats*), led to major opposition. This opposition has direct context to disputes today involving fundamentalism, including its political flavor. Protestantism was seen as supportive of individual liberty as well as Americana, given its focus on the individual believer's acceptance and understanding of the Bible. Catholicism was a more hierarchical faith, one led from a pope (king?) beyond the mountains. It also was a more conservative faith as well as one with a more communitarian mind-set: individual liberty was not supreme to societal well-being. This would later inspire a more social welfare approach with progressive implications, but clearly contrasts with basic American ideology.
Catholics were an important interest group of the Democratic Party ... this is seen by the fact that originally even the likes of Ted Kennedy was in effect pro-life. As to the abolitionist issue, it should be noted that many across the board was wary about that, even if they did not like slavery per se. And, Catholics opposed many aspects of slavery, including disrespect of marriage rights and religious obligations to slaves.
Nonetheless, the Church was wary of abolition overall, fearing the major change to society this would bring -- in particular, some of the more radical rhetoric of freedom and change used in support. This reflected events in Italy as well -- violent revolutions in the air, "liberal" thought was clearly dangerous. The complexity of this fear of individual liberty taken too far is suggested by the Church's concern about "liberty of contract" -- an artificial construct that threatened the well-being of workers.
The book offers an interesting account of the complexities of Catholicism's approach to American Freedom. The authoritarian nature of the Church, including the need to follow canon law (one critic complained that some writers appeared to be like criminal defense attorneys trying to get guilty clients off by interpreting clearly unjust canon law in the best possible way) clashes with its benign -- if different -- approach to ethics and morality.
This is suggested by its discussion of 20th Century Catholic greats, who in many cases fully and passionately cared about the welfare of society, including workers, the poor, misuse of military might, and so forth. The trope that those against abortion do not care about children after birth is belied here, though it is noted in passing that some of their Protestant allies do not support the social welfare beliefs of many Catholics (priests and nuns who became martyrs in Latin America suggest the truth to these beliefs). Individual liberty vs. society liberty, so to speak, is a major debate that is worth having.
McGreevy becomes a bit more partisan toward the end of the book, especially after the 1960s, which is not too surprising since he is speaking about his own era (he teaches at Notre Dame). Still, even the account of these decades is of interest. To cite one subject dear to my heart, he discusses the anti-abortion efforts -- which had some real affect in state legislatures -- led by the Catholics in the years right before Roe v. Wade. This belies the trope, a mischievous and misguided one, that somehow the right to choose was just about to be legalized nationwide. Likewise, he notes that Southern Baptists actually supported "reform" laws (allowing abortion in limited circumstances such as for the health of the women -- broadly defined -- and in cases of rape and incest) and put out a statement that Roe supported "freedom of religion."
The book is a bit hard going at a few points, but overall it is a fairly good read. The struggles, I guess, began when it started to focus on a few major thinkers, and not the Church overall. This was not overdone, but more emphasis on the masses, so to speak, would have been helpful. In particular, more coverage of women -- for instance, Dorothy Day was only briefly covered -- would have been beneficial. Also, as noted above, the book assumes the reader is somewhat familiar with some of the basics ... a bit more clarification at some points would have been helpful, including translation of certain Latin titles. Nonetheless, it was a useful introduction to the subject.
A personal word. Having grown up in the faith, though not really deeply, the book was of course of particular interest. The faith is not quite copasetic to my beliefs, which should not come as a shock. The benign characteristics of Catholicism, however, surely should not be ignored -- its "catholic" reach over cultures, the social welfare aspects of its doctrine and policies (especially after the late 19th Century, it inspired much social reform), and various doctrines (confession seems to me a quite useful institution, especially if we take its true repentance aspect seriously).
But, oh that doctrine overall: supportive of an elitist top down command structure that remains male dominated, ignorant of realities like the need of divorce/contraceptives, rejection of homosexuality and sex out of marriage, and so forth. And, a basically hypocritical avoidance approach. After all, most Catholics (in the U.S. at least!) use contraceptives, ignoring Church doctrine when it suits -- but this individual morality approach is pure Protestantism.
The Church does not truly face the issue, however, because they know they cannot without changing the law or losing masses of church goers. An honest approach, though this would call into question tropes like the permanence of church doctrine and papal infallibility (which, even in a narrow sense, is an absurdity) would have been to change the policy in the 1960s. Likewise, the whole dodge of sometimes (in an arbitrary way) allowing annulments.
No, I can greatly respect the Church and some who still call themselves Catholics even though they resist many church laws (this really is cheating), but ultimately it is a sort of tragic respect -- can they change for the better and still remain Catholic?** But, yes, a certain pragmatic/realism does exist in many Catholics that works fairly well. This book offers the reader a more complete look at the the history of their faith, one that remains quite important. After all, the Supreme Court might be 5-4 Catholics soon enough. And, Catholic thinkers often supply ideological weight to conservative Protestant thought and social policies.
The conflict between the two would be a useful follow-up to this volume.
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* Since the book begins, somewhat artificially, in the 19th Century, the fact that Catholics did have some notable presence in colonial times was not addressed. For instance, Maryland was originally a haven for Catholics, and native son Chief Justice Taney was Roman Catholic. The minority nature of the faith in those times -- the 19th Century being the great period of growth -- is suggested by James Madison noting that congressional chaplains are of questionable constitutionality in part because it is unlikely any would be Catholic. This came to mind attention via a citation of a current dispute involving a military chaplain who refuses to use more universal language.
** This is a touchy subject, and it's hard to discuss it with various Catholics without it getting emotional. One person tried to explain to me that some of the things I listed really were not the fundamental aspects of the faith, but I did not buy it. The Catholic Church is not a Chinese menu in which you can pick and choose ... the Church, for instance, is quite passionate that natural law dictates that sex is basically procreative and that human personhood begins at conception. Thus, its stance on contraception is no minor one, and abortion in particular is quite a serious matter. It also is by its very nature a hierarchal/top-down institution, which led to various ill advised compromises allegedly for the good of the Church.
Most faiths have their good points ... Catholicism is no exception, and its long history surely suggests that. But, I remain a Protestant at heart ... with Catholic flavor added into the mix. For instance, I do have sympathy to natural law. Certain things can be determined from the nature of things, though the ultimate sanction is quite a different matter. And, more situational ethics does have their place -- but, I think this too can be said to be an outgrowth of natural law. After all, there is much flexibility in nature. Likewise, the good of society must be taken into consideration, but I think individual liberty and hands off government often is a good way to do this. Complicated? Yeah.