What Does It Mean To Be "Rigid?"

 

Although my family and I have attended the Traditional Latin Mass exclusively for the past three years, and have no intention of changing course, I would not consider us “traditionalists.” Why?

For one, I simply don’t find terms like this especially useful. It tends to divide and cement the Church into factions (that people already know exist), and as our Lord says, “A house divided against itself cannot stand” (Mark 3:25). It operates by way of stereotypes and broad brush strokes, and encourages tribalism which isn’t always of benefit to our mission to “make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). I don’t need labels, and I don’t find them of benefit, so I tend not to latch on to such terms.

For another, I am generally averse to the use of contemporary nomenclature because they have a short half-life, are overused (and often cringe-worthy), and tend to degenerate into pejoratives. When we say someone is “woke,” we don’t mean they are enlightened, but a virtue signaler. When we say someone is a “rad trad,” it usually implies they lack charity and are overly zealous about the things of the past. It’s a weaponized use of language to make someone into the “Other” so we can write them off.

And yet, we cherish Tradition and the traditional liturgy, and want to see it grow and flourish. Which is why I wonder sometimes where our Holy Father Pope Francis is coming from when he equates such love of Tradition with what he calls the “perversion” found in so-called “rigid priests.” 

“Clericalism is a perversion of the priesthood: it is a perversion. And rigidity is one of the manifestations,” the pope said June 10.

“When I find a rigid seminarian or young priest, I say ‘something bad is happening to this one on the inside.’ Behind every rigidity, there is a serious problem, because rigidity lacks humanity.”

He continued, “the world is thirsty for priests who are able to communicate the goodness of the Lord to those who have experienced sin and failure, for priests who are experts in humanity, for pastors willing to share the joys and labors of their brothers, for men who allow themselves to be changed by the cry of those who suffer.”

I try to give people the benefit of the doubt, and the Holy Father is no exception. And there is an element of truth in what he says--there is a kind of “lack in humanity” in rigidity, if we take this at face value to mean that one expects perfection sans mercy, or “ties up heavy burdens” in a Pharisaical way without giving one the means in charity to perfect themselves. I have to assume this is the “perversion of the priesthood” (clericalism) the Holy Father speaks of. The world is indeed thirsty for priests who are able to communicate the goodness of the Lord to those who have experienced sin and failure. 

It may be helpful to speak about the difference between art and science in this context. Theology is unique in that it is both an art and a science. As a science, Theology (“theo” meaning God, “ology” to study) has a subject: God, the Supreme Good, Whom we can know through the revelation of Himself to us in His divine son Jesus Christ.

But Theology is also an art, in that it attempts to explain the unexplainable, and depict the goodness of God to a fallen humanity. It does this through art, literature, poetry, nature, metaphysics...really anything that can be used to reflect the goodness and nature of God. Because we are not automatons, theology seeks to answer the questions of religion (“Why are we here?” “What happens to us when we die?” “What is the purpose of life?”) in a systematic fashion while dealing with human beings as the subjects--the receivers of God’s Divine Revelation--who are rife with imperfections.    

“Accompaniment” is a oft-used word used in more progressive Catholic circles that tries to accommodate for this kind of human failing and imperfection. It is often touted as a kind of kind antidote to this “rigidity” the Pope is so critical of. There is nothing wrong with walking with someone in the throws of sin who is not yet ready to leave that life, per se, especially when done in charity. 

But this is when we must be careful. Any parent who has dealt with a son or daughter addicted to drugs or alcohol knows at some point the danger of enabling. This could also apply to other areas--the parents that affirm or condone their child’s decision to undergo gender reassignment therapy, or who wants to live with their boyfriend or girlfriend before marriage. When parents take a hard and uncompromising stance in these areas of morality (which pertain to one’s state of grace), and set firm boundaries in what is and isn’t acceptable, and often do so with much suffering and heaviness of heart, they are often accused by outsiders of being “hateful...unloving...rigid.” 

There was another mother centuries ago who could have been accused of such rigidity. Queen Blanche of Castile, the mother of St. King Louis IX, once told her son, whom she raised to be a saint: “I love you, my dear son, as much as a mother can love her child; but I would rather see you dead at my feet than that you should ever commit a mortal sin.”

So again, we come back to this question--what constitutes “rigidity?” Is it adherence to the law at all costs? What if that law is the law of God, which preserves us from sin and ultimate damnation, as the Psalmist sings praise, “How can a young person stay on the path of purity? By living according to your word” (Psalm 119:9)? What if one loves the soul of another more than they love their good name? 

My wife and I do not consider ourselves “rigid” people. Our lack of a set bedtime for our kids and our house which is in a general state of disarray can attest to this. But we would also not hesitate to echo the words of Queen Blanche to our own children, “I would rather see you dead at my feet than that you should ever commit a mortal sin.” This is because we are not raising our children for Tradition or liturgy; they are simply the vehicles by which our children may cultivate the virtues for themselves needed to attain sanctity--it is our number one priority as Catholics ourselves, and our raison d’etre as parents who hope to attain and Heaven and see our children there. We recognize the liturgy does not save on its own, but is only the medium. One can attend a Latin Mass their whole lives and still fail in charity on a daily basis if they never learn to “bend, not break” in how they treat their fellow brothers in Christ. 

But we can never compromise when it comes to sin. We may adjust how we address a wayward brother, we may change tone to suit our audience, we may even tolerate such conditions as long as we are persistently and gently leading one in charity towards the well that never runs dry. 

If some priests (and laypeople) find fertile ground in Tradition for building the house of virtue, and that by extension makes them targets of the levied threat of being “rigid,” I find that it is not “something bad which is happening to this one on the inside,” but that they love God’s law so much that they “will the good of another,” which is the essence of charity. For the stiff-necked and obstinate, true charity will almost always feel abrasive and superficially “unloving” when it does not condone the poison in the meal, or it rips a drowning man’s shirt collar while pulling him into a liferaft. 

Maybe the use of these pejoratives such as “rigid” made by one’s own father are meant to be born by those who love Tradition and God’s law as a kind of scourging at the pillar, or crown of thorns--a kind of humiliation one endures as a means to his sanctification. Or if open-minded, he may take it as a challenge to increase the virtue of charity in his own life, even if it doesn’t look “loving” from the outside when it is for the benefit of his flock’s souls. 

Either way, if an abhorrence of sin in one’s own life and the world, and a love of God’s law and the the fidei depositum handed on to us by the Apostles for the sake of our ultimate salvation is a kind of “perversion,” well...color me rigid.