I read an article about the event in ussanews. It described those who attended the White House event as “leftists who pretend to be Catholics”. I am not sure who the author was referring to.  I knew most of the people that were in attendance. I have worked and worshiped with them.  They are among the most committed and dedicated faith leaders. They each can share their story about how being Catholic is what moved them to the work of peace and justice. I will share mine. 

My parents were poor Irish Catholic immigrants who came to America in 1950. We attended a mostly Irish Catholic parish which my parents were very active in and made sure all of us kids were as well. My siblings and I all attended Catholic schools. All of my brothers were altar boys. Several times a week my mom would gather us around her bed in the evening to pray a Rosary. Prominently displayed on our living room wall were two pictures. One was Pope John XXIII and the other was President Kennedy.  But for my mother, being Catholic went much deeper than just the rights and rituals. Mom taught me that being Catholic was more than just attending Mass and obeying the Commandments. Being Catholic was about how you lived every moment. Did you treat others with love and respect? Our neighborhood during my childhood was in transition. My mother would be the first person welcoming new folks. Regardless of the color of their skin, their race or even their sexual orientation. She told me that being Catholic was not a way to get to Heaven but a way to create Heaven on Earth. 

Stella and I have been married for 35 years. She was raised in the same town as me, but in a poor Italian Catholic immigrant neighborhood. Our Catholic faith has been a major part of our life and spiritual journey. We have four children. We did not follow the traditional route of having children. When we were first married Stella was a single mom, so I became a stepdad. We then had a child together. After a few years we decided to become foster parents and ended up adopting a brother and sister whom we were fostering. We also opened our home to several of our kids’ friends who were in trouble. It was our Catholic faith that led us to become foster and adoptive parents. Despite raising a family and both working we found time to volunteer. We both felt blessed, and our Catholic faith taught us to share that blessing. Today I volunteer at a soup kitchen at St. Thomas More Catholic Church in New Haven, Connecticut. Stella volunteers two days a week at Hospice. 

I have been an activist for peace and justice for most of my life. I have helped to organize marches and rallies, participated in acts of nonviolent civil disobedience, and have gone on extended hunger fasts.  I was the Executive Director of the Franciscan Action Network and co-founded the Global Catholic Climate Movement. Most recently I co-founded and serve as the National Co-Director of Catholics Vote Common Good, www.votecommongood.com/catholics-vote-common-good/.  I am not an activist to prove that I am a good Catholic. I am an activist because that is what my Catholic faith and the words of Jesus call me to do. I am not sure what the author meant when he called me and others “pretend Catholics”.  But based on what he wrote, I am pretty sure if Jesus were walking the Earth today, he would be identified as one of those “pretend Catholics.”  

Several years ago, my wife received a phone call from our daughter who was living in Charlston. She told my wife that our son had been shot. He was in a hospital in Savannah. We were told that he was in a coma and in critical condition and that the next few hours would determine whether he would live or die. We were in DC, so we had to find a flight to Savannah. The whole time we were booking a flight and getting packed, we were talking with and getting updates from our daughter. We got on the plane and followed the procedure, turning our phones off. We spent the next two hours out of contact. Unless you have experienced it you cannot imagine the anguish of being on a plane for two hours wondering if, when you land, you would get a text saying that your son was dead. Thankfully my son survived. 

We have heard this story many times and know the predictable script, from our political leaders especially from those who oppose any gun regulations, that follows a mass shooting. 

• First there will be statements of how terrible this is and offers of “thoughts and prayers” for the victims and their families. This will be followed by 
• Attacks and outrage at those who speak out for more gun control. The attackers will say this is not the time to talk about this. They will accuse the gun control advocates of using the crisis for political purposes.
• Then there will be statements from political leaders about how this has nothing to do with guns but rather it is a mental health issue. 
• Then nothing will happen.
• Then there will be another episode of gun violence and the process will begin again. 

In an article published in Psychiatric News in 2021 the author Katie O’Connor writes: “Only 4% of the violence that occurs in the United States can be attributed to people with mental illness, yet when incidents of gun violence occur, they are almost immediately associated with psychiatric illnesses.” In another article published in 2021 by The Harvard Review of Psychiatry, “Mental Illness, Mass Shootings, and the Future of Psychiatric Research into American Gun Violence”, the authors write: “Still, “mental health” remains the focus of many existing regulations as well as proposed policies to prevent gun violence in the community. Despite evidence that there is no strong connection between gun crime and mental illness.” In 2022 Dr. Jeff Temple, a psychologist and founding director of the Center for Violence Prevention at the University of Texas Medical Branch wrote: “Making psychiatric disease the bogeyman is politically expedient – it allows policymakers to shy away from the true culprit. It also fits into how the public often views mental illness – as something to fear. Afterall, what else would cause someone to do something so heinous? The problem with this thinking is that it’s wrong.”   

Putting aside the fact that most of the scientific evidence shows very little connection between mental health and gun violence, a number of studies have shown that only around 25% of mass murderers had exhibited a mental illness, but most of them had not appeared on the radar of either the mental health or law enforcement systems. Similarly, as reported in the Harvard Review, a Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) study found that only approximately 25% of shooters were known to have been diagnosed with a mental illness of some kind, ranging from minor to more serious disorders. The study concluded that “formally diagnosed mental illness is not a very specific predictor of violence of any type, let alone targeted violence.” One would think that if politicians are going to blame mental health for gun violence, they would do everything possible to ensure there was proper funding for mental health programs. 

In May of 2022, after a gunman killed 19 children and two teachers at a Uvalde elementary school, Texas Gov. Greg Abbott stated that the Uvalde school shooter had a “mental health challenge” and the state needed to “do a better job with mental health”.  He then proceeded to cut $211 million dollars from the state’s budget for mental health programs. In 2023, the Wisconsin the Republican-led budget committee proposed cutting more than $276 million for mental health services in schools. The House Republicans proposed cutting $300 million from programs that address student mental health issues. In 2022, 210 House Republicans voted against the American Rescue Plan, which provided $12 billion to address mental health needs. 

It is interesting that approximately 88% of the members of Congress claim to be Christian. But one has to wonder how many have actually read the Bible or heard the words of Jesus. The sin that is most often mentioned in the New Testament is the sin of hypocrisy. It is mentioned more than 25 times in the New Testament. From Matthew Chapter 23: “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!”, to Matthew 23:28 “So you, too, outwardly appear righteous to men, but inwardly you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness”. I don’t know about you, but I believe a very clear example of hypocrisy would be claiming that gun violence is a mental health issue then proposing budget cuts in mental health programs. Kind of makes you wonder what would Jesus say about that. 

While many are raising the alarm that the rhetoric used by Trump and his allies has the potential to cause real danger and violence, by refusing to condemn this hateful violent rhetoric, his allies are expressing their support. Republican National Committee Chair Ronna McDaniel declined to address the “vermin” remark in multiple media appearances.  When asked she said “I am not going to comment on candidates and their campaign messaging. Arizona congressman Andy Biggs used violent language to call for retribution. He said: “We have now reached a war phase, An eye for an eye.” Even media outlets are joining in. The conservative activist and radio talk show host and founder of Turning Point USA Charles Kirk called for imprisoning Democratic politicians and even their families and the execution of Biden. 

This angry, hateful, divisive rhetoric is not limited to Trump and his allies.  Their extremist language is being used all across America.  It is language being used not just by political leaders but by everyday people in everyday situations. You can find it on social media at campaign rallies at schools and in churches. The people using the language often claim to be folks of deep faith. Kirk claims to be an Evangelical Christian and Biggs a Mormon. The threats are not just directed at political leaders who disagree with Trump.  They are often made against ordinary people just trying to create a better world. It is simple to demonize and criminalize nameless faceless groups of people. You can easily assign negative traits and characteristics to them. You can blame them for all of society’s ills and believe that they are the cause of your problems. But before you do this, think about who you are really demonizing.   

As the Lutheran Pastor Martin Niemöller wrote: 

First, they came for the Communists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Communist

Then they came for the Socialists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Socialist

Then they came for the trade unionists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a trade unionist

Then they came for the Jews

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Jew

Then they came for me

And there was no one left

To speak out for me

Ironically, Niemöller started out as a strong supporter and sympathized with many Nazi ideas, he supported radically right-wing political movements. It wasn’t until several years later, after Hitler came into power, that he realized his mistake and became a critic. 

If you know me you know that I proudly stand for social justice. I strongly believe in feeding the hungry, helping the homeless, caring for the poor and welcoming the stranger. I have been part of a movement to organize protests against injustice, I have participated in and organized actions of nonviolent civil disobedience to protest against Trump’s policies and actions. I have gone on long hunger fasts to protest our inaction on climate or our policies of separating children from their parents at the border.  I have written and published articles about how these policies are not following the teachings of Jesus or any other spiritual leader. I am the son of immigrants, when I was born my parents were not citizens. They later proudly became citizens but I was a citizen as a result of being born in the US.   If all this makes me part of the radical left, I wear that badge with honor. I do these things because I try to follow in the footsteps of people like Jesus, St Francis of Assisi, Gandhi and others.

So, when Trump and his allies are talking about sending people who oppose and disagree with him off to camps, they are not talking about some nameless faceless boogeyman. They are talking about me.  Maybe we know each other. Maybe we went to grammar school or high school together or we attend the same church. Perhaps our kids grew up or I coached one of your kids in basketball or softball. Maybe I am the guy you bump into many mornings when we are both walking our dogs. We smile at each other as our dogs greet and we talk about the weather then continue walking our dogs. We could have volunteered at the soup kitchen together. I don’t know, we could have been part of the same book club or something like that. We could see each other at the grocery store and ask about how our kids are doing.  I am not a nameless faceless radical leftist vermin trying to overthrow the government. I am a person deeply committed to my faith and justice. But if you vote for Trump or others who support his policies, you will be voting to send me and others like me to one of the internment camps that Trump and his allies are talking about. Please think about that when you decide to cast your vote. 

At the Holocaust Museum there is a wall that has statements from folks who were alive during this horrific time. The statements are from famous people like politicians, business leaders, media stars and sports figures. There are also statements from common everyday people. These statements all have the same thoughts. I wish I had known, if I knew then what I know now I would have done more, I should have done more, how could we have let this happen, I should have spoken out. I pray that 30 years from now there will not be a wall in a museum with a statement from you saying If I had known i would have spoken out and done more. 

Peace and All Good, 

Patrick Carolan

In his encyclical on climate, Laudato Si, Pope Francis wrote:

“(W)e are sowing filth and destruction into the earth rather than life and beauty.”

We have created economic policies that benefit a tiny minority of super-rich global elites while leaving the rest farther and farther behind to survive on scraps. Both our political and religious/spiritual structures are more focused on “isms” like nationalism, racism, shortsighted militarism, sexism, separatism, and individualisms rather than what our great mystics and spiritual leaders taught about the interconnectedness of all creation. We spend billions upon billions on bombs and guns leading to more killing and destruction while ignoring the cry of the poor. There are those who are elated at the crisis because they believe we are living in the end times and soon Jesus will return and “make everything right.” 

Thirty-five years ago, Thomas Berry wrote in The Dream of the Earth, “The deepest crises experienced by any society are those moments of change when the story becomes inadequate for meeting the survival demands of a present situation.” We have reached that point.

Our story of life is more about a struggle surrounded by anxiety and despair rather than joy and hope. Our story is collapsing and there seems to be no way out of the mess we have made. We created a story that put us at the top of the hierarchical pyramid. A story which teaches that everything we do, our only purpose now and here, is important only insofar as it helps us to get there, wherever and whatever ‘there’ is.  It is a story centered on individual redemption and salvation. A story where we are what matters, and the rest of creation is only here to help us get there. The rest of creation has no intrinsic value of its own. A story where we are waiting for the great sky god to come and rescue us. And we wonder why we live in a time of conflict and polarization — in the various forms of the church and in the world at large.

As I have previously written: “The young see our churches as being fueled by theologies of separation, shame, punishment, and damnation. They experience our liturgies as being obsessed with individual salvation, appeasing a demanding God so our individual souls can assure their ticket to heaven when we die. They encounter our institutions as being more concerned with their own power, privilege, and survival than with the common good. Many feel frustration and hopelessness.”

My friend singer-songwriter Meah Pace in her song I Hope wrote: 

“How could we ever come to this place you say.

Our lives do not matter.

Justice has no face.”

So, where do we go from here?”

Teilhard de Chardin wrote “Evolve or be annihilated.” He wasn’t just talking about the process of physical evolution. He was also referring to the evolution of our spirituality. Our human understanding of evolution is more associated with science, not spirituality. Many of us would consider ourselves to be woke/enlightened because we firmly believe in evolution but do not connect evolution to our spirituality. We do not think of evolution as part of our sacred story. We understand that evolution is a slower process associated with physical change over a long period of time, while we think of transformation as an almost instantaneous moment. Something happens, we see something, and we are transformed in an instant. If we fail to grasp the idea that evolution is our sacred story, then our story, as Berry said, “is inadequate for meeting the survival demands of a present situation.”

Transformation is very clearly associated with spirituality. All our sacred stories and spiritual traditions contain examples of when a spiritual leader, a saint, had a mystical moment and was transformed. The stories in the Abrahamic traditions are filled with such examples. In Exodus 3:1-17 we read the story that is honored in all three of the Abrahamic traditions of Moses and the burning bush. While attending his flock, Moses saw the burning bush. In all probability, his first response would have been to move his flock away. After all, the fire could very easily spread and kill a lot of his flock. He must have been very much afraid. Maybe he even thought of putting the flame out. That certainly would have been a smart thing to do. Instead, Moses stepped out of his comfort zone, embraced his fear, and approached the flame. It was then that God spoke to him, and Moses was transformed.

There is also a well-known transformation story about St Francis of Assisi. It is said that he feared people with leprosy, going out of his way to avoid them. If he was walking on a path and he saw a leper ahead he would turn around. One day, he was walking on a path and saw a leper ahead. His first thought was to find a different path. But after a moment he went forward and embraced the leper. It was then that God spoke to him, and he was transformed. I have a friend who was a very conservative evangelical minister. He would often preach about the evil of homosexuality telling his flock that they should be fearful of this evil and that it would steal their children away. One day my friend’s son came home from college and told his dad he was gay. My friend had two choices; he could continue in his beliefs of the evil of homosexuality and condemn and disown his son, or he could step outside of his comfort zone and embrace that which he most feared, his son whom he dearly loved. My friend chose the latter. He embraced and accepted his son and that is when his transformation began. 

Transformation is not a once-in-a-lifetime experience. For Moses, St Francis and my minister friend their burning bush moment was just the beginning of their transformation, not the end. They had to be willing to reimagine who they were in relation to God and creation. They had to step outside of their comfort level. The author André Vauchez, in his book Francis of Assisi: The Life and Afterlife of a Medieval Saint describes St Francis as having a “radical innovation” by having the audacity to speak directly to God. He wrote: “Francis, as a layman whose mind was not weighed down by doctrinal formulations or by the influence of philosophical currents, gave to the life of Christ an especially radical interpretation.” Francis faced ridicule from his friends and was disowned by his father. My minister friend was removed from his congregation and lost many friends. But if we want to reimagine our story, we have to be willing to be uncomfortable. My friend and pastor at my church for many years, Fr. Tom used to get up at the end of Mass and say, “I hope I have made you feel uncomfortable.” We never transform in our comfort zone. Unfortunately for many of us, our first reaction when we encounter the burning bush is to get a fire extinguisher and try and put the flame out. We are comfortable in our story of individual salvation and redemption. Even though the story is clearly not working, we are hopeful that the great sky god will come and save us and take us to a place with a better story. 

In the late 12th century, the Sufi mystic and poet Farid ud-Din Attar wrote a fable, The Conference of Birds. It tells the story of a group of birds being called to go on a search for their ideal king, the Simorgh bird. As the birds gathered to begin the search, their guide explained that the journey was difficult and challenging. One by one the birds began offering reasons why they could not take this journey. One bird replied that he is so attached to precious stones that he is not interested in seeking the true jewel. Another says “I live in a beautiful place. Why would I want to leave?” A third bird’s excuse was he was too afraid of dying to possibly set out on such a journey. Another said they were not good enough; they had done bad things. While another said they had already found perfection why should they care about helping the other birds. On and on it went, each bird explaining their rationale and justification for why they could not step outside of their comfort zone. We are the birds, always making excuses and rationalizations as to why now is not the time. If we are going to create a new story we must start with re-imaging and re-telling our sacred stories. 

One time I was having a discussion with a friend who is an avowed atheist. He was describing all the reasons why he doesn’t believe in God. When he was finished, I smiled and replied that I agreed with him. I also do not believe in that God. For many of us our prayer life consists of worshiping an image of some separate being somewhere in the sky and petitioning the being to intercede on our behalf for whatever our cause is at that moment. We hope that if we worship enough, in the right ways, and get enough petitions the separate sky being will make everything good for us. In his book Prayer of the Heart in Christian and Sufi Mysticism the Sufi teacher Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee wrote, “Prayer begins to be a living presence within us, rather than an effort of recollection. ”  

The birds in Attar’s fable eventually overcame their fears and began the transformative journey of creating a new story. What would our new story look like if we, like the birds, like St Francis and the other mystics and saints, put aside our fears, stepped out of our areas of comfort and embraced the transformative journey towards oneness. It is not really a new story but a new understanding. An understanding that mystic and spiritual leaders from every spiritual/religious tradition have been teaching us. Our fear has blinded us and made us deaf. If only Jesus had performed a miracle to help the blind see and the deaf hear. The Franciscan visionary theologian Sr. Ilia Delio, in her article The Death of God and the Rebirth of God, writes about the new/old story that Jesus taught us. She writes: “Jesus’ integral consciousness of wholeness evoked a genuine revolution in cosmic and social relations, a new creativity, a new structure of existence based on community and shared values. He saw all human beings (and indeed the whole creation) as part of himself and called his disciples to a new future, to create a transformed earth, where all could live together in justice, mercy, and peace.” 

It is a story not of separation but of oneness. 

Peace and All Good 

Photo: A pro-choice and an anti-abortion demonstrator confront each other outside the Supreme Court in 1989, Washington DC (Flickr: Lorie Shaull)

For the last 40 years, the abortion debate, as currently framed, has raised huge sums of money for non-profits and political organizations, especially those on the right. It has also provided leaders of both parties with a simple issue around which to mobilize voters: for Republicans, the rights of the unborn, and for Democrats, the rights of women.

But the conventional debate has a dark side, a set of side effects and unintended consequences that we believe citizens of moral conscience need to know and pay attention to.

For example, each side, by providing us with a short-cut to a sense of moral superiority, also gives us a weapon with which to demonize and even dehumanize our counterparts. When we render our opponents the evil enemy, we risk becoming a house so divided that our nation becomes ungovernable. When one side frames ethically complex issues as simplistic moral absolutes, then negotiation, the heart of politics in a democracy, becomes moral compromise. And when the other side frames abortion as if it were a simple legal and medical matter with no moral dimension, adherents render themselves insensitive and incomprehensible to their counterparts.

We’re left with polarization, paralysis and mutual vilification, right at a critical moment when so many other serious problems demand our unified attention: runaway climate change and economic inequality, unchecked gun violence, the need for immigration reform, and a resurgence of racism in its many ugly forms.

That’s why more and more of us are waking up to this realization: The current framing of the debate is wounding our nation and may in fact become our undoing, dividing us so deeply that in seeking to win elections, we lose our nation’s soul.

As religious leaders, one Catholic and one Protestant, we see the great harm the old abortion debate is doing, both to our national politics and to our religious communities. That’s why we would like to invite politicians, religious leaders and citizens in general to turn away from the rhetoric of mutually-assured destruction and reframe the abortion debate in more productive terms for the future.

A “Next Generation Abortion Conversation” would have the following ground rules:

First, we would stop demonizing each other. We would acknowledge how seductive it is for each side to consider itself morally superior and reduce its opponent to the level of moral filth. We would face the harm that kind of pride can do, both politically and spiritually. In our combined 120-plus years of life experience, neither of us has ever met a single supporter of abortion rights who hates babies, supports infanticide, or who has a “the more the better” attitude toward abortion. Nor have we ever met an abortion opponent who hates women and wants to throw mothers in jail for seeking an abortion. No doubt, such extremists may exist, but we have yet to meet any, and we can no longer let the debate be framed and fought from the extremes.

Second, we must acknowledge that there aren’t only two positions on abortion. It would be more accurate to say there are five, with purists on either end of the spectrum, and in the middle, three groups that account for the majority of us, those who are against abortion but do not want to criminalize it, those who support abortion rights but who would like to see abortion rates reduced, and those in between who see wisdom (and problems) on both sides. If we get beyond the old two-sides framing, we can drop the old pro-life versus pro-choice binary entirely. The fact is that life and choice are not mutually exclusive, and in a democracy, we can hold our own moral convictions about life and choice, rooted in our religious traditions, without feeling that others should be forced to live by them.

Third, we must shift the debate from making abortion illegal to making abortion less and less necessary. The truth is that we can both reduce abortions and protect vulnerable women from having politicians (who are mostly wealthy, white and male, by the way) interfere with one of their most personal moral decisions. Abortion reduction rather than criminalization is a goal that nearly all of us can agree to.

And there’s great news in this regard. We’re already succeeding at reducing abortion rates, and we already know what will reduce them even more. If we shift our energies in the direction of abortion reduction, focusing on the causes and conditions that lead to abortion, everyone will benefit.

For 40 years, our nation has been torn apart by one framing of the abortion debate. It’s time for a new generation to address the issue in a new and wiser way.

Patrick Carolan is the Catholic Outreach Director for Vote Common Good. He was executive director of the Franciscan Action Network since 2010 and is a co-founder of the Global Catholic Climate Movement.

Brian McLaren is an author, speaker, activist and public theologian. A former college English teacher and evangelical minister, he co-leads the Common Good Messaging Team, part of Vote Common Good.

(A version of this story appeared in the Jan 24-Feb 6, 2020 print issue under the headline: It’s time to change the abortion debate in America.)

But there were those who did not want change. They wanted to continue a system where their race and sex had power over other races and sexes. While most stopped paying attention they began organizing and planning. They started enacting legislation that would erode the transformative power of the Civil Rights and Voting Rights acts. They gerrymandered voting districts to ensure they stayed in power. They enacted numerous restrictions on people’s right to vote. While a few prophetic voices spoke out most simply watched and did not pay attention. After all, “we had already fought this battle and besides I am white Christian, not a Muslim or Jewish, I am not Black or Brown, I am not gay so what they are doing doesn’t really affect me.”

When two young black state representatives were ousted in Tennessee, one wonders if the actions of their white colleagues still reflect a political system founded on racism. Duly elected state representatives had lent their voices to a student demonstration supporting gun control that poured onto the state House floor. 

Right down the road, three children and their teachers had been murdered at school. Outrage and free speech were deemed “a lack of decorum.” The will of all those who voted for Democratic former Reps. Justin Jones of Nashville and Justin Pearson of Memphis (primarily black) were tossed aside.  All the time, “the world is watching” was being chanted. But their fellow lawmakers were undeterred.  The two found themselves out of office, their constituents unrepresented.   

As people of faith, we must speak up and condemn the actions of the Tennessee House Republicans.  There is nothing less Christ-like than shunning those who disagree with us – especially those who are giving voice to the voiceless, working to protect children, and condemning violence against others as we believe the “Tennessee Three” were doing. 

If all men (people) are created equal, how can Americans stomach the blatant examples of racism and discrimination we regularly see on the evening news?  Pope Francis has not shied away from expressing the church’s view. The pontiff denounced racism, likening it to a virus that lurks in waiting only to emerge and show that “our supposed social progress is not as real or definitive” as people think. The spectacle in Tennessee is just the most recent dreadful example.

The number of examples of racism and antisemitism everywhere cause us to become numb to the reality that the lurking virus of hate and racism is alive and well.  When Americans elected a black president, many Americans thought we had taken a big step in achieving the high bar the founders had set for our new nation. But as Pope Francis rightly predicted, “The virus, instead of disappearing, went into hiding and mutated.”  

What do we, as Catholics/Christians, do when overwhelmed with so many images of hate? 

Negative campaigns work. Voters may have naivete surrounding candidates in their party, believing individuals running for office have more credibility and integrity than often in reality. We all must dig deeper.

In recent years we have witnessed a new phase of campaigning, where no low is too low, and the truth is in short supply. Elections are consequential on so many levels, and every voter wants to make the right decision and align their vote with their values and hopes for the country’s future.  

The Catholic and Christian churches are powerful conveners. It is advantageous to recognize that the potential of young people is the future of the church and the country. A new generation of activists has taken to the streets, begging to end racism and gun violence.  Active shooter drills in the classroom are vital because guns are now the leading cause of death of children.  Mass school shootings are a weekly occurrence. These are the same aware and socially conscious individuals we all want to see in the pews on Sunday morning. They are also our future elected leaders.  When there is little movement to change gun laws and racism, they see their activism efforts as ineffective. Frustrated and losing faith in the potential of the many to make a difference, we risk creating generational apathy. 

Our Churches have an opportunity to harness the power and passion of the most diverse generation in history.  They also vote in record numbers. Pope Francis’s words challenge us to step into a void, connect millennials, and Gen Z with resources to fight racism and make wise decisions at the ballot box. It is complicated, but the great minds in Catholic and Christian churches (across the nation and the world) must respond when discrimination and racism are exposed.  With ‘losing our democracy’ making the list of national priority issues for the first time in history, there is no time like the present to address a myriad of important initiatives, including voter advocacy across the generations. Democracy is not a spectator sport. It requires all of us to be active participants.

Donna Sines is a natural facilitator, gifted visionary, creative strategist, and writer. Nationally, Sines is best known for her community-building work engaging non-traditional stakeholders.  Before leading the country’s first grassroots Community Vision organization for a quarter of a century, she served as Executive Vice President of the largest Chamber of Commerce in Central Florida. Among other successful efforts, she invented a non-traditional Leadership program that, by design, bonded business leaders and elected officials to advocates representing the homeless, faith-based community partners, as well as non-profit, education, health, environment, economic development, and criminal justice leaders. To celebrate this experiential-focused program’s 25th anniversary and mark its impact on the future of Central Florida, Donna Sines was recognized with a Congressional Commendation. Donna is also a National Distinguished Leader, receiving 20 Walt Disney Community Service Awards and grants. Additionally, she was honored as Regional Legacy Champion of Sustainability, Woman of Outstanding Leadership, and coveted Governor’s Community Investment awards, bestowed by Lawton Chiles throughout his administration. Lastly, Donna was selected by a grassroots committee to be the Grand Marshall of her hometown Christmas parade and was designated Osceola County’s Woman Warrior.

Patrick Carolan is a Catholic activist, writer and storyteller. He served as the Executive Director of the Franciscan Action Network, co-founded the Global Catholic Climate Movement, the Faithful Democracy Coalition and the Catholics Vote Common Good organization.

These days the expression ‘white privilege’ is becoming more prevalent. Unfortunately, it is used more and more as a means to divide us. One narrative that has gained popularity, especially since 2016 with the Trump campaign, is that white privilege is a myth and in reality, it is white people that are most discriminated against. A Pew Research poll done a few years ago shows that a majority of white people in the U.S. believe that as a group, white Americans experience racism. According to the poll 55% of white Americans believe there is discrimination against white people in America today. In order to muddy the waters, the narrative takes concepts like ‘racism’, ‘racist’ and ‘white privilege’ and uses them as if they are identical which makes it difficult to have a discussion around the idea of white privilege and its role in racial inequities. 

This is especially true for white people who have grown up in poverty. They had to struggle and work hard for everything. For them the concept of being privileged in any way is absurd. There is also the messaging from the right that suggests people who work towards racial equity and justice believe you are racist because of your white privilege. We have to be very clear and forceful in our discussions about white privilege understanding that recognizing it is not racist. We are not racist because we recognize that white privilege exists. White privilege didn’t cause racism, it is a result of racism. The journal Organizational Behavior and Human Decision Processes, defines white privilege as “economic and social advantages white people experience due to their race that racial minorities do not experience.”

In his article What Is White Privilege, Really?, Cory Collins says recognizing white privilege begins with truly understanding the term itself.

“In that way, white privilege is not just the power to find what you need in a convenience store or to move through the world without your race defining your interactions. It’s not just the subconscious comfort of seeing a world that serves you as normal. It’s also the power to remain silent in the face of racial inequity. It’s the power to weigh the need for protest or confrontation against the discomfort or inconvenience of speaking up. It’s getting to choose when and where you want to take a stand. It’s knowing that you and your humanity are safe.”

I have been an activist for justice for most of my life. I think I was 14 when I went to my first civil rights march. Over the years I have been somewhat successful. At 34 I was elected president of a large state employee union. I was an executive in corporate America and helped found a company. I was the head of a faith social justice organization and co-founded both the Global Catholic Climate Movement and the Faithful Democracy Coalition. Over the years I have taken the time to reflect on how my life evolved. I, as well as my siblings, could easily be the poster boys for the Horatio Algers story. My parents were Irish Catholic immigrants who came to America in 1950. They were dirt poor, had no real job skills and while they spoke English it was with such a thick Irish brogue you would not understand a word they said. I grew up mostly in a transitional neighborhood that was poor Irish but changing to Black and Hispanic. I started working when I was 10 delivering newspapers, caddying, cutting grass and doing whatever other odd jobs I could find. When I graduated high school, I got a job and attended Community College at night. So, it would be easy for me to say that I started from nothing and because of my hard work became a success. I certainly didn’t feel like I was privileged. Many people believe that acknowledging white privilege will diminish or demean their accomplishments. 

In 1972 after graduating from high school I got a job working in a factory where my mother, three of my brothers, two aunts, an uncle and a cousin also all worked. It was considered a good place to be employed. They paid well, had good benefits and generally treated the employees well. The factory complex consisted of numerous buildings covering several blocks all connected by underground tunnels.  The workforce was very diverse, consisting of recent immigrants like my mom and aunts, older predominantly white men most of whom were veterans from either the Korean war or WWII, a growing number of younger African American men and Hispanics mostly from Puerto Rico and Mexico. It was what is often characterized as a melting pot of America. My job was working in the shipping room. 

Every few days I had to make the rounds to all the different departments to see what orders were ready to be shipped. I became friends with a young black man who was a few years older than me and had a lifetime of experience.  We both had grown up in poor neighborhoods. Kevin and I would often talk about political issues. He was one of the few folks who, like me, openly opposed the Vietnam War. But we did so for different reasons. Racism often was a topic of our discussions. 

Though the expression “white privilege” was not commonly used at this time Kevin would often say I didn’t really understand racism because I had the advantage of being white. I argued back that I grew up as the son of poor immigrants. I was working in the same factory doing the same job he was. How was I advantaged? Kevin replied when you make your rounds this morning take a second in each department and see if you notice anything. Later on, after I finished my rounds, Kevin asked me if I noticed anything. I said “no nothing out of the ordinary, what was I supposed to be looking for?”   Kevin replied, “did you notice how there is not a single black supervisor in any department?’ I hadn’t noticed. 

When I thought about that I remembered when I was six and John Kennedy was running for president. My dad took me to see him when he was coming through our town. After giving his speech Kennedy went around shaking hands. He came to my father and heard his thick Irish brogue. He asked my dad what part of Ireland he was from. Kennedy then bent down and said to me that his family had come from Ireland with nothing and today he is running for president so maybe someday I also could run for president.

I thought about that moment in relation to my friend Kevin.  I grew up dreaming that someday I could be president and Kevin couldn’t even dream that someday he could be a floor supervisor in a factory. Those white male supervisors didn’t actually do anything wrong. As far as I can remember none of them were overtly racist. They didn’t create the system. They were all very hard working and dedicated folks. When the chance came to get promoted, they, like any of us would have, jumped at the opportunity. 

When my oldest brother Tom was 19, he joined the Navy. He served his four years and when he got out he was able to take advantage of the GI Bill to attend college. Tom ended up getting a PhD. He went on to get a good job, start a family and buy a house.  Tom was three when he came to America with our parents. They came with nothing, no money, no education and little job skills. My brother’s story was one of those American success stories. It even carried on to the next generation. He helped his two daughters get through college and both earned PhDs.

The GI Bill passed in June 1944.The sweeping bill promised prosperity to veterans. It provided subsidies for housing and education. It even gave returning service men and women a cash payment of $100 per month to help with the transition. It is a great program that says thank you to our men and women who served. But when it was first started it excluded black servicemen and women for the most part. An entire generation of men and women who bravely fought to defend our nation were denied the opportunity to get an education and buy a house so they could start accumulating wealth. My brother had to work really hard to accomplish what he has accomplished. It doesn’t lessen his accomplishments to acknowledge that by being white he had an advantage. 

About 20 years ago my wife and I made a decision to become foster parents. We ended up adopting the brother and sister who had been staying with us. So, we now had two white children and two black children. Being a father of two black children gave me a whole different perspective on white privilege. I remember when my son was 12, he attended a Catholic school that was mostly white. One day a couple of his friends, who are white, were over playing. One of them said to me: “You know Mr. C. we know that we can fool around in class and Delvon (my son) will get blamed for it.” At 12 they understood the concept of white privilege. Another time when Delvon was around 13 he was shopping with his mom. Stella would be going to different departments while Delvon would stop to look at something then realize that his mom was not right there. So, he would look around and then try to catch up. He noticed a person was following him. He was then stopped and confronted by security. They wanted to know why he was following Stella and accused him of following her so he could rob her. That never would have happened if it was one of our white children.  

As a white male acknowledging that I had an advantage does not take away from my accomplishments. I still had to work hard and sacrifice. White privilege is not about blaming white people for the advantages they have.  It should be about recognizing privilege and understanding that some people have to work much harder just to experience the things that I can take for granted.

The writer, activist and founder of the Intersectional Environmentalist, Leah Thomas, wrote in her book The Intersectional Environmentalist: How to Dismantle Systems of Oppression to Protect People + Planet”:

“ACKNOWLEDGING WHICH aspects of your life and identity may have led to advantages (or disadvantages) doesn’t make you a “bad person.” Recognizing privilege isn’t meant to shame you, make you feel bad, or suggest that you’ve had an easy life. However, the process allows the veil of denial to be lifted in order to reveal a pathway toward more understanding, empathy, and equity. Understanding privilege isn’t cut-and-dried. Even as a Black woman, I’m able to look at my childhood and see areas in my life that helped me get where I am today.”

We live in a time of conflict and polarization — in the church in its various forms and in the world at large. In fact, our religious and secular challenges are so enmeshed as to be inseparable. 

In the world at large, the planet is in crisis. From global warming to the great global insect die-off, from the impending tsunami of extinctions to multifaceted ecosystem collapse, the earth is suffering under the burden of too many people demanding too many resources while pumping out too many wastes. As Pope Francis said in Laudato Si, we are sowing filth and destruction into the earth rather than life and beauty.

The poor are also in crisis, as a tiny minority of super-rich global elites control a larger and larger percentage of power and wealth, leaving the poor farther and farther behind to survive on leftovers. Simply put: the wealth rises to the top and the troubles (what economists call “externalized costs”) trickle down to the folks at the bottom of the economic pyramid.

In addition to the crises of the planet and the poor, we face a crisis of peace. Arrogant nationalism, ignorant racism, shortsighted militarism, and post-truth propaganda empower the Putin’s of the world to bomb innocents into rubble while the NRAs of the world proliferate guns. As we pump more and more weapons of increasing kill-power into human societies, as we dump more and more carbon and other pollutants into our skies and seas, as we redistribute more and more wealth and power away from the struggling masses and toward the elite upper classes …  we create a perfect recipe for misery, for us, for our children, and for generations to come. 

We could wish that the leaders of our Christian faith were paying attention to these crises. A few are. But many — too many — are obsessed with preserving their power, protecting their privilege, and perpetuating their institutions. They obsess over liturgical gnats while ignoring existential threats, and we wonder why younger generations are turning away!

The young see our churches as being fueled by theologies of separation, shame, punishment, and damnation. They experience our liturgies as being obsessed with individual salvation, appeasing a demanding God so our individual souls can assure their ticket to heaven when we die. They encounter our institutions as being more concerned with their own power, privilege, and survival than with the common good. Many feel frustration and hopelessness. 

Younger generations know the reality articulated early in the last century by Teilhard de Chardin: “Evolve or be annihilated.” They know the reality articulated late in the last century by Thomas Berry: “We will go into the future as a single sacred community, or we will all perish in the desert.” 

When they read the gospels, they hear a resonance between Teilhard’s call to evolve and Jesus’ call to repent. And they hear a resonance between Jesus’ good news of the kingdom of God and Berry’s “single sacred community.”

When they hear or recite the Lord’s Prayer, the prayer most frequently prayed by every denomination of Christianity, they hear the words, “Thy kingdom come; thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.” They see what so many of us miss: Jesus’ prayer is not an evacuation plan, praying to get our individual souls from earth down here to heaven up there. This prayer is a transformation plan, bringing God’s good will down here to earth from up there in heaven. The prayer asks us, “How do we join Jesus in his concern for God’s good desires to become actualized on earth?” The prayer directs us to address this world and its injustices, joining God in God’s healing work within this world. 

The Sufi teacher Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee says, “The world is not a problem to be solved; it is a living being to which we belong. The world is part of our own self and we are a part of its suffering wholeness.”  Younger generations wish they could say more in our Christian communities helping to lead the way to bring healing and hope to this “suffering wholeness.”

We have a proposal that addresses both the crises in the world at large and the crises in the Christian church: the possibility of a Franciscan Renaissance.

The first biographer of St. Francis, Thomas of Celano, described Francis’ return to God as reclaiming that which would free him both from a sinful nature and from a perverted society which was Christian in name only. Thomas of Celano could just as easily be describing the state of our world and religion today. 

Neither of us are professed Franciscans. Our deep love and understanding of Franciscan spirituality came from our work and relationships with Franciscan sisters and friars in the US and across the World. When we talk about a Franciscan Renaissance, we are not referring to otherworldly piety and escapist rituals or propping up the status quo of Franciscan institutions. Rather, we advocate a Franciscan Renaissance centered in the spirit of St. Clare and St. Francis, embodied in their examples, further explored in the works of brilliant Franciscan theologians like Blessed John Dun Scotus. 

This renaissance is needed because dominant forms of Christianity are stuck. The Catholic Church is stuck; all the many forms of Protestantism are stuck. Whether you are Catholic, Evangelical Protestant or Mainline Protestant you’ve probably watched with horror from a distance as many of your leaders and fellow members were so easily sucked into Trumpism. It breaks your heart to see how many Christians have wandered into white supremacist backwaters, into QAnon and other conspiracy theories, where they’re in many ways ruled by nostalgia, dreaming of a mythical idyllic past when life made more sense to them. 

Yes, there are beautiful pockets of light and growth and redemption in all our Christian traditions. But so many are stuck in deep ruts, hardly able to see outside. Even when they know they’re in trouble, it’s so much easier to live in denial and keep on with liturgy as usual. Along with ruts of routine, so many of us are stuck in our silos, just worried about our little group. So, Lutherans are worried about renewing Lutheranism and Presbyterians are worried about renewing their Presbyterianism, just as Roman Catholics and Eastern Orthodox can act as if their group is the only group that matters. 

Every week, more and more people, especially young people, leave the stuckness and stagnation, joining the 70 million-plus adult Americans who grew up going to Church but who no longer do. The failure of retention of younger generations brings us closer every day to what we might call a demographic cliff. 

If Christianity were in trouble only because it’s stuck in ruts of routine and silos of sectarianism, that would be bad enough. But we also have to acknowledge that there are dominant forms of Christianity that have become dangerous. Too many preach that Jesus is coming soon, so we don’t need to worry about the environment. Too many preach, ‘The Bible says that the end is going to be terrible, that things are getting worse. That just tells us that we are closer to the end. And after that it is heaven and then we will all be able to party.’ Too many preach an intoxicating cocktail of Christianity and white supremacy, Christianity and nationalism, Christianity and unregulated capitalism. As a result, the earth suffers, people of color suffer, the poor suffer, and ultimately, everyone suffers.

The words of the prophet Jeremiah (8:8) echo in our ears: 

“How can you say, “We are wise, 

for we have the law of the Lord,”

when that law has been falsified 

by the lying pen of the scribes?” 

The vision of Francis and Clare are exactly what we need at this moment of peril and opportunity. Why is that legacy so precious at this moment?

First, at this time of ecological crisis, the Franciscan legacy is powerfully ecological. Living as we do at the precipice of an environmental catastrophe; we need a spiritual vision that integrates love for God and love for our neighbor with love for the earth — exactly the vision of St. Francis and St. Clare and the movements that they gave birth to. 

Francis’ famous friendship with a wolf and his preaching to the birds are easily reduced to cute little tropes, birdbaths if you will. But the ecological vision of Francis was about more than birdbaths. It was about the interconnectedness of all creation, so that we see every creature as sister or brother. As Sr. Ilia Delio OSF wrote in her book, A Franciscan View of Creation, “Francis’ respect for creation was not a duty or obligation but arose out of an inner love by which creation and the source of creation were intimately united…” Francis saw himself as part of creation, as being in relationship with creation, and not having dominion over creation or even stewardship of creation.  

Second, in this time of violence, this time of school shootings and war in Europe, this time when many politicians seem to believe that the more guns, we have the safer we’ll be, or the more bombs we have the safer we’ll be, we need St. Francis’ message and example of nonviolence as never before. If we follow the path of maximum armament … believing that we can never have too many guns and bombs … we will discover that this is a suicidal trajectory for our species: as Jesus said, “Those who live by the sword will die by the sword.”  We need a spirituality that is deeply nonviolent not just in words but in our action. 

It is difficult to preach nonviolence when so much of our religion is focused on the wrath and fear of God. In fact, to many Christians today, world salvation means being saved from an angry God. Carl Jung, one of our greatest 20th century psychologists, once said, “If our religion is based on salvation, our chief emotions will be fear and trembling. If our religion is based on wonder, our chief emotion will be gratitude.”  Over the centuries, many forms of Christianity have become religions of fear. But Christianity wasn’t always like that. It began as a nonviolent peace movement, a community known for love, a community gathered around a table of fellowship and reconciliation, a people armed with the basin and towel of service, not the bomb and gun of violence. A Franciscan Renaissance would invite us to become, in the language of St. Clare, not violent warriors, but nonviolent mirrors of Christ for others to see and follow.

Third, in addition to being ecological and nonviolent, the Franciscan vision is deeply economic. Today, a larger and larger percentage of wealth is being concentrated in the hands of fewer and fewer individuals and families. In spite of calling ourselves democracies and free market economies, many of our nations are returning to a kind of feudal oligarchy, where a small number of powerful families exert great power over governments and collaborate with transnational crime syndicates … all while collaborating with religions that give them cover. St. Francis arose in the early stages of modern capitalism, and he saw its potential dangers. He exemplified an alternative value system where the poor, the leper, and the outcast matter more than money, luxury, and power. Our current economic model places no intrinsic value on creation, except as a source for raw materials that we consume. In so doing, it reduces us to consumers, and values us based on our productivity measured in money.  A Franciscan renaissance would help us “redeem” — which means to re-assess and revalue — everything, so we rediscover the priceless beauty of the earth and its creatures, including our neighbors and ourselves.  

Fourth, we live in a time of exclusion, division, classism, racism, and religious prejudice. We need the example of St. Francis and St. Clare, who clearly modeled deep inclusiveness and solidarity. In the iconic paintings of St. Francis embracing a leper, we do not see a shallow inclusiveness that says, ‘We’re elite and we’re going to bring a few of you as tokens into our exclusive club.’ No, we see in St. Francis profound solidarity with the last, the lost, and the least, with the other, the outcast, the outsider, and even the enemy. In this spirit of solidarity, I see that my life and your life are interconnected. I refuse to settle for my own happiness, because my life is in solidarity with yours as my neighbor. 

The relationship between Francis and Clare modeled this: we’re all equal — male and female, rich and poor, healthy and sick, well-clothed and clothed in rags, Pope and Bishop and lay person. Francis even teaches us to refuse to discriminate between Christian and Muslim, Jew and Atheist, for we all are beloved by God. We see this interfaith solidarity when Francis ventures without weapon or threat into the Sultan’s camp in Egypt, bearing a message of peace – a heart for peace. This vision has been tragically lost in so much of our Christian faith. More than ever at this moment, we need the vision of Francis and Clare for an interfaith solidarity. 

We have experienced this inclusive solidarity. Neither of us are professed Franciscans but we both have been welcomed within the Franciscan community. Not only that: in our work and travels we both have encountered Muslims, Jews, Hindus and even atheists who have a deep respect for St. Francis, his life and works. A Franciscan Renaissance will expand beyond the traditional three Franciscan orders to a fourth order — of Franciscan-hearted people.

A Franciscan Renaissance would be ecological, nonviolent, economic, and inclusive. It would also be creative theologically. Too many Christians still imagine God as a big white guy on a throne in the sky, a cosmic dictator and Zeus-like despot and who will subject people to cruelty if they don’t honor his magnificence appropriately. Looking back over the last eight centuries, it is clear that the Franciscan theological instinct was right, and we need it more than ever. 

The prevalent theology during the time of St Francis was centered around the idea of substitutionary atonement. In this view, the purpose of Jesus’ incarnation was to suffer and die as a sacrifice to appease an angry God. But for Franciscans, Jesus didn’t come to appease an angry God; he came to reveal a loving God, as Sr. Ilia Delio, OSF, says in her book, Franciscan Prayer: prayer “begins and ends with the Incarnation. It begins with encountering the God of overflowing love in the person of Jesus Christ and ends with embodying that love in one’s own life, becoming a new Incarnation.” This fresh vision of God leads to a fresh vision of everything everywhere. 

Thomas Berry wrote in The Dream of the Earth. “The deepest crises experienced by any society are those moments of change when the story becomes inadequate for meeting the survival demands of a present situation.”  We are experiencing that crisis today, in the world and in the church. A Franciscan Renaissance will not come easily; it will be costly, challenging, even disruptive. After all, if renewal were cheap, easy, and convenient, it would have happened already. If we are willing to count the cost, commit to the challenge, and persist through obstacles, we can be agents of a true Franciscan Renaissance.