How a Jeep Got Me Inside Church More Often
When it seems like things couldn’t get any worse on the planet, it’s tempting to draw one of two conclusions (at opposite extremes):
1. It really is terrible … and the world’s “gone to hell in a handbasket!”
2. Or, it only seems bad, but it’s actually not much worse today than it was back in “the good ol’ days.”
As always, the truth likely lies someplace in the middle (meaning it’s pretty rotten out there, but it’s probably not the end of the world — for how long have people been incorrectly predicting it is?).
When it comes to today’s political and cultural divisions, however, it’s difficult to imagine American society ever being more splintered than it is today (in our lifetimes anyway).
Sure, some people could credibly point to the turbulent 1960s — a decade marked by race riots and major political and religious assassinations — as at least as tumultuous as today. But it’s hard to deny that the United States, in recent memory, has ever been more politically and culturally split than the 2020s (growing progressively worse since the “summer of love”— or, more accurately, lies — of six years ago).
Many of today’s divisions were, arguably, fomented by Leftists who seeded society with intersectionality (dividing groups by class, such as race and gender; or, collectively, “oppressed” and “oppressor”). Some contend the ideology has Marxist roots and aims to obliterate Western values based on natural law, including Christianity (shedding new light on the Left’s “No Kings” protests).
One aspect of today’s culture wars that seems different from those of the past (and isn’t easily explainable as Leftist), however, is the newfound intra-party, intra-religion and intra-everything (fill in the blank) squabbling we’re witnessing.
For example, in the past few weeks we saw the smart, outspoken Catholic convert Carrie Prejean Boller (a former member of the Presidential Commission on Religious Liberty) take on part of the U.S. Catholic establishment — notably Bishop Robert Barron. In response, the cleric didn’t hold back. He issued a forceful (some might say uncharitable) retort. A few days later, Cardinal Timothy Dolan weighed in, taking the side of Bishop Barron. (Much of the bickering took place on social media, of course.)
A few months ago, actress Patricia Heaton (a star on “Everybody Loves Raymond” and “The Middle”), a Catholic, picked a social-media fight with prominent political podcaster and former Fox talk-show host Tucker Carlson (a fellow Christian).
And let’s not even get into the dustups surrounding popular podcaster — and Catholic convert — Candace Owens. (Suffice to say, they mainly concern her proclivity to pose probing — at times prickly — questions; you know, kind of like real watchdog journalists once did.)
Beyond all the hullabaloo happening mainly on social media, we also have MAGA (whatever that now means) vs. #AmericaFirst. (One wonders on which side, in their hearts, are U.S. Vice President JD Vance and Secretary of State Marco Rubio — prominent conservative Catholics in the Trump Administration.)
The infighting is enough to give one pause. Are we witnessing, in real-time, the playing out of Biblical passages concerning the separation of followers and non-believers? Jesus said: “I have come to light a fire on the earth.… Do you think I have come to establish peace on earth? I assure you, the contrary is true; I have come for division” (Luke 12:49–51).
Whether or not that’s the case, the common denominator in many of the public spats — especially Prejean Boller vs. Barron/Dolan; Heaton (and many others) vs. Carlson; and MAGA vs. #AmericaFirst — has been: Israel.
So, how are we, lay Catholics and Christians — most of us non-experts on the Middle East — to judge who’s right or wrong?
A good place to start, it would seem, is to examine:
• Who’s asking questions (thereby seeking truth — always the ultimate goal)?
• Who’s name-calling, trying to stifle questions and attempting to silence those asking them?
Also, who might be getting paid (and by whom) in these very public skirmishes? Though difficult to know, it just might be that those seeking to shut off serious debate are the same ones being compensated (“Follow the money,” as the adage goes).
Analyzing a few other recent politically and culturally sensitive issues and comparing the responses of those in authority with today’s arguments surrounding U.S. military involvement in Iran (ostensibly at Israel’s urging) reveals another commonality:
Who were the ones who, in 2020, allowed our churches to be closed (with barely a whimper in many cases)? Who are the ones who, with a few brave exceptions, often exhibit timidity toward using their “bully pulpit” (if not literally the church ambo) to speak out, forcefully and unambiguously, against abortion and the culture of death? And who are the ones who are ofttimes noticeably reticent to rebuke aggressive foreign-policy agitators (again, with notable exceptions, such as Bishop Joseph Strickland)?
In each case, the answer’s the same: The clergy (regrettably). In contrast, it frequently has been the laity (or non-Catholics, in certain instances) asking, sometimes in disbelief, “Why are you allowing them to…?” and “Why aren’t you saying anything?” (See again: Who’s asking the difficult questions?)
In his 2023 book Deception, U.S. Sen. Rand Paul, lamenting the national political climate, posits that among some politicians and bureaucrats, “The truth no longer matters.” As Catholics guided by the search for objective truth, we can only trust the opposite is true.
Utilizing both faith and reason, a Catholic pursuit of truth has at its foundation: wisdom and goodness. Wisdom may be enhanced by asking questions, and then strictly adhering to a maxim of the fiery Mother Mary Angelica (1923–2016) and others: “Follow truth wherever it may lead.”