The Nativity of St. John the Baptist
June
24th is a big day for our neighbors to the north,
as
the province of Québec celebrates la-Saint-Jean-Baptiste.
No
one’s quite sure how John the Baptist
became
so beloved among French Canadians.
Saint Joseph has been the official patron of what would become Canada
Saint Joseph has been the official patron of what would become Canada
since
the 1600’s…but his feast day is in March,
and
it’s not the best time of the year to have a party.
So
with John the Baptist’s birthday
happily
coinciding with the start of summer,
I
guess he was an obvious choice for a fun-loving people!
The
early observances of the feast in Québec
carried
over traditions from Europe:
lighting
bonfires, for example, during the night preceding June 24th—
one
of the shortest nights of the year.
But
the celebrations grew over time—
in
particular, during the mid-1800’s.
Festive
parades began to spring up,
often
including a small boy
dressed up as a young Saint John,
escorting a lamb through the town.
A
flag was designed for the festivities,
which
looks an awful lot
like the provincial flag of Québec today,
except
with a large image
of Jesus’ Sacred Heart at its center.
(You
can still see this flag
in one of the stained glass windows
upstairs
at Notre Dame.)
Everything,
of course, led up to the celebration
of
a solemn, sung High Mass
in the principle church of each region.
But
times have changed.
The
stirring sermons of old began to be replaced
by patriotic
speeches concerning national identity and pride.
The
sung Masses in the churches faded away
as
concerts and dancing sprang up in the parks.
The
flag of fleur-de-lis still waves…
...but lacks the Sacred Heart.
And
the parades continued…
...but without a little John the Baptist.
In
fact, since a government decree of 1977,
June
24th is now officially known
as La Fête
nationale du Québec—
the
National Holiday of Québec.
Even
in name,
it’s become a pretty thoroughly
secular observance.
Faith,
it seems,
has gradually given way to politics.
This
past Thursday, Catholics in the United States—
at
the urging of our Bishops—
began
observing a “Fortnight for Freedom,”
leading
up to our own national holiday on the 4th of July.
Most
people who’ve heard of it
have
scratched their heads wondering,
“What
in the world is a fortnight?”
That’s
an old-fashioned word for fourteen days.
But
we’d do much better during these two weeks
—in my opinion—to
spend our time considering,
“What is freedom?”
We
live in an age
that often confuses liberty with license.
Despite
popular notions to the contrary,
everybody
getting to do everything they want
is
not the definition of democracy;
it’s
the definition of anarchy—
a proven recipe for chaos.
A
truly free people is governed not by the principles of majority rule,
but
by the principles of the common good.
According
to its founding documents,
our
nation was intended to be one
where
the law of the land is determined
not
by what will help keep our elected officials in power,
but
by what’s in accord with our human nature—
and
our human nature, of course, is determined
by the God who made us.
by the God who made us.
The
current troubled nature
of
the relationship between faith and freedom
is
not—though some who portray it so—
because
religion is under violent political attack.
If
that were the case,
then
both the enemies of the Church and her plan for defense
would
be abundantly clear.
The
real danger we face today is one of neglect.
Many
of the Catholic faithful in America
are—to
put it bluntly—unfaithful.
They
do not come to Mass with regularity;
they
do not give Church teaching much influence over their lives;
they
are overwhelmingly uneducated in the faith,
whether
from lack of information or from misinformation.
Ignorance
and apathy are the real enemies the Church now faces…
…and
they are some of the most difficult to defeat
because
they do not launch a full frontal assault,
but
foster a slow, downward slide.
The
goal of the prayer and penance, the education and action
that
make up the current Fortnight for Freedom
isn’t
that the U.S. become a Catholic nation,
nor
even an explicitly Christian one.
This
is not an attempt to impose our religious doctrines or discipline.
(A
quick look around the world reveals
how
such efforts regularly degenerate into violence.)
But
what the Church hopes for American Catholics
is
that we’ll make an honest examination of our national values:
how
they’re established, and then how they’re expressed in law.
It’s
a rather foolish—though frequently repeated—thing to say
that
faith and politics must never meet.
We
can’t give God sway—as he desires—of every aspect of our lives
and
then make an exception for this one.
And
I don’t think it’s too much to aim for
a respectful
and reasoned dialogue between the two.
In
the history of Israel,
prophets
arose at the same time
as did kings.
Even
divinely anointed rulers
had a tendency to forget
that
their kingdom was to be governed by the law of God
rather
than selfish human interests.
Prophets
were appointed
to remind kings of this.
Needless
to say,
it’s always been a tense relationship!
John
the Baptist—
even from his birth—
arrives on the scene
as
a prophet to the nations
and a light for Israel:
preparing
a way for the Lord
who comes to set all people free.
But
the freedom announced by John
and won for us by Christ
is
clearly not primarily
a political reality—
not
a matter of self-rule;
not
the elimination of all government interference and restrictions.
The
Baptist, after all,
died at the hands of a puppet king,
and
Jesus himself was sentenced
under the laws of Roman occupation.
Thus
the freedom for which
we are to work and pray
during these days
is
not simply the ability to choose the manner in which we worship—
even whether we
worship at all.
It’s
an inner freedom—a freedom of conscience—
which
naturally seeks outward expression:
the
freedom to pursue the truth and live our lives according to it.
True
religious liberty is not so much a matter of what we’re free from.
(Faith,
you’ll remember, has generally best flourished
when
it’s been most aggressively oppressed.).
No,
true religious liberty is a matter of what we’re free for:
free
for virtue; free to live by a higher law;
free
to do good, and free to be good;
free
to know God, and free to love and serve God in all things.
Such
a freedom ought to always be protected by civil authorities…
…but
even when it isn’t,
such
a freedom can never really be taken away
because
it’s part of our innate human dignity—
a
freedom which has been granted,
not
by the Constitution, but from above.
It
is of this freedom that we—like Saint John the Baptist—
are
called to be courageous prophets in the world today.
Unlike
our neighbors in Québec,
our
national holiday was never an explicitly religious one.
And
it’s not the purpose of our Church to make it so.
But
during this Fortnight for Freedom leading up to Independence Day,
we are
reminded of our duty as Catholics
to be
a real force for good in our beloved country.
Following
in the footsteps of Saint John the Baptist,
let
us courageously seek and speak the truth
which
alone has the power to set all people free.
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