4 Feb 2015, Some Thoughts on San Francisco Situation

In the Gospel Story for this coming Sunday Jesus tells his disciples, “Let us go on to the nearby villages that I may preach there also, for this purpose have I come.” I wonder if he required them to to sign a contract that warns them about his demands about sticking verbatim to his teachings and literal obedience to his laws, particularly on sexual issues, and forbids their taking public positions that are contrary to his teaching. The Archdiocese of San Francisco did this with teachers in their high schools, warning them in a archdiocesan handbook for high school teachers, that if they deviate publicly or privately from church teachings they are in danger of losing their jobs.

I don’t think Jesus acted this way in his time, and would not act this way today. He went out to folks everywhere, “he cured many who were sick with various diseases”, and “he went into their synagogues and drove out many demons throughout the whole of Galilee”. Maybe some could see the action by the archdiocese as driving out demons, but Jesus did it in a much more compassionate way. He didn’t hit folks with a series of demands and threats, but spent time with them and shared his Father love. I, and maybe this is just my problem or lack of true, authentic subservience to the one and only magisterium, don’t see much of this in the archdiocese’s goings-on.

Pope Francis say the church does not teach doctrine or a tradition, it teaches Jesus to whom doctrine and tradition point. To me it seems that the archdiocese is taking a particular view of church teaching and imposing it on folks with the threat of loss of job and livelihood. He reminds us to be alert to the presence and work of the Holy Spirit in our world, and to not have a closed heart and a closed mind. These prevent us from seeing the Holy Spirit when she doesn’t act as we think she should. They keep us from the gift of being surprised as the power of grace happening all around us, and even in us.

Actions such as this encourage an attitude of fear on the part of teachers, and even students and parents, towards archdiocesan management, and maybe this is what the management wants — management by fear. There is no room for trust and respect, because there is no respect down the chain, there will be no respect up the chain. Respect is earned, not demanded.

Jesus left his disciples a way of life that did not include threats, closed minds and hearts. He did not load them down with rules and dogmas, nor did he forbid them to think for themselves or make their own decisions. I would imagine the teachers at the SF high schools are intelligent and dedicated, and quite capable of taking part in meaningful dialogue in these matters. I’m not sure about management. So far in many instances management has shown it believes it alone has all the answers to everybody for everything, especially in matters pertaining to sex and gender issues. The threats and the handbook, no doubt, are issued in the name of Jesus who management believes would act the same way if he had all the information that management has.

Management seems to be afraid of truth which can be inconveniently surprising. We come to know truth as we walk on our journey prayerfully asking Jesus to lead us. The truth Jesus offers us is our Father loves us as we are, and there is nothing we can do to make him stop loving us or love us more. This truth unfolds in our lives in myriad ways. Each of us come to know it on our journey which, by definition, is unique to us while having many commonalities with others. There is no fear in this truth.

When someone claims their version of the truth is the only true authentic one, then comes fear. This view has to be defended, and so fear comes on the scene. We see this attitude at its fullest in ISIS and its acts of terror, but the germ or kernel of this attitude is clearly present in the attitude some managers have towards the managed: I am right, and any who do not agree with me are wrong, and I will punish you if you do not change and agree with me right now. There is neither room for, nor possibility of, dialogue. When management claims to have all the answers, why bother with dialogue. A common trait among church managers these days seems to be going through the motions of listening and then imposing an already pre-determined decision. The folks are not dumbbells, they know this, and recognize it for what it is – the futile rants of scared management. This actions has disturbing similarities to religious cults who also attempt, often successfully, to control their folks through fear and threats.

Any leader knows a necessary component of effective leadership involves motivating the folks to buy in to the project at hand. This involves making the folks they lead feel valued, respected, and cared about. It can be a laborious and time-consuming process, but it works. When the leader takes care of those he/she leads, the mission will happen. There is none of this in the SF situation. There is, however, bullying.

A disturbing, at least for me, spin-off of this is the rancor being expressed by so many folks on various op-ed pages. Jesus said, “Everyone will know you for my disciples by your love for one another”. I don’t know how much of this rancor can be translated as love for one another.

The teachers are in a tough spot. I don’t envy them. I don’t know what I would do if I were in their shoes. I would like to think I would have the integrity not to sign, but I don’t know. This situation is similar to local managers who require their priests to sign an oath of fidelity. I don’t see how I could sign that.

People are good. Our problem is that most of us don’t recognize, or cannot accept, our own goodness. Actions such as the SF action confirm and strengthen our lack of recognizing by saying, in effect, we are not able to think responsibly for ourselves. Jesus offers to change this by how he brings us into each other’s lives and moves us to live. Not sure management understands this. This is no way to treat anyone, especially teachers. Where would any of us be without them? Might we wonder who management’s teachers were?

Just saying . . .