Catholic-ometer: 4 of 5
Enjoyability: 3.5 of 5
This is the first book by Benedict Groeschel that I've ever read, and it probably won't be the last. I started reading without a whole lot of knowledge about him. All I knew was that, like Scott Hahn and Peter Kreeft, he was one of the "modern apologists" who've written and popularized the Catholic faith in the current age. I mention Hahn and Kreeft for a specific reason. One of them, in my mind, is magnificently knowledgable and faithful, and the other tries to be, but sometimes winds up making mistakes that don't get filtered out in the proofreading stage. In short, I suspected that Father Groeschel would be similar to at least one of these two. I just didn't know which one.
Regrettably, if this book is anything to go by, I'm afraid he'd closer to Kreeft than Hahn. I get the impression that he's doing his best to be faithful, and yet, there are mistakes here or there; often merely as a result of not being clear enough in his wording on a particular subject, or tiptoeing around serious moral issues, as if trying to avoid hurting someone's feelings. This approach will make you more popular, but it won't make you holier.
Case in point; the chapter on what to do when the church disappoints us. He says (correctly,) that we need to understand what we mean by "church;" that "church" can mean a group of people, a group of bishops, a heirarchy, a specific diocese, or even a specific person who's a baptised Catholic. He also says (again, correctly,) that it's our obligation to exercise loyalty to our church. The problem is that while he advocates care in defining "church," he doesn't explain which definition is correct.
The correct definition of "church" to use is "the teachings and authority of the bishop of Rome and the magisterium, and the holy writings and decrees which they have approved." It does not mean an independant conference of bishops set up in an individual nation, it does not mean your particular diocese, and it certainly doesn't mean a feminist nun who happens to run the religious education program at your local parish. Even to these figures, we should prefer loyalty, but only on issues that don't go against the will of legitimate church teaching (Pope, Magisterium, traditions, scripture, etc...) If there is a conflict between the pastor of your parish and the teachings or authority of the church of Rome (such as; he wants to support the CCHD, and you know for a fact that they defie church teaching,) then your obligation is to the Pope, and as such, to ignore the authority of your pastor in this matter.
That really doesn't take too long to explain, yet he doesn't explain it, leaving the doorway open to be misinterpreted.
He also says in at least one point that the Council of Trent forbade people from taking about Purgatory in terrifying terms. This sounded false to me, so I looked it up. I admit, I still haven't finished reading all of the council documents, but thusfar, the closest I've been able to find to this claim is the decree at the beginning of the 25th session of Trent, concerning Purgatory, which prohibits subtle, difficult discussions of Purgatory, which don't edify and don't increase piety, from being discussed with the less-educated public. It also forbids silly superstitions about Purgatory, and uncertain guesses or theories about Purgatory also shouldn't be matters of general discussion, but there's nothing in there about not "making it seem terrifying."
Ultimately, though, what disturbed me most was Father Groeschel's claim, near the very beginning of the book, that "the human mind can't understand the reason for suffering," and "we just have to accept the existence of this mystery."
While I agree with him that there are mysteries which we have yet to unlock, and can't unlock by our own power, making the claim in these terms does nothing to help make him look educated, and even makes the church look clueless and helpless in the face of this "unsolvable puzzle."
In reality, of course, the "mystery" is not "why is there evil?" but rather "what are -all- the reasons why there is evil?" This last question is the one that has an infinite answer, which we can't fully comprehend, because God is infinite, and so are the number of reasons he has for what he does and allows. Still, if you're only looking to find out one of those reasons, then the answer is simple.
God allows evil because he is a God of love. Love requires a loving response. A loving response can only be made freely by a being that possesses free will. Free will can only be exercised by the freedom to make choices. Choices involve something to choose between. Therefore, in order for God to be loved by us, we must have the opportunity to refuse his love. This is one key reason for the existence of evil, and it's certainly not beyond the ability of human intelligence to grasp.
The book itself is about the variety of situations that can make us feel most lost and abandoned, and how we can emerge from them; undefeated, holy and stronger from the experience. When seen in this light, it's still far from the best book on the subject, nor does it reference other great books of the past. The impression I got was of a modern book, written for the modern audience, which, for the most part, refuses to read anything more than a century old.
Is this book good? Sure. Is it neccesary? Probably. Is it particularly outstanding in any area? Yes; the motive to be virtuous drove this book's creation, and that is certainly outstanding.
However, if you were to ask me for my favorite books on the subject of enduring suffering, this (and for that matter, most modern books) would fail to make it into my top ten. It's not a weak book, but it could stand to be a little stronger, a little wiser, and a little clearer on some of its points.
No comments:
Post a Comment