I was attracted to read this book by the recent election of Pope Francis, being the first Jesuit Pope. Little did I realize what I was getting into, as this book is nothing less than an open castigation of Jesuitism and the Catholic Church by author Malachi Martin.
Because Martin himself was a former Jesuit, and devout Catholic, this book provides a unique cross section perspective into the history of the Catholic Church and the emergence of South American Liberation Theology. It has been a good number of years since I read the internationally popular work by Gustavo Gutierrez: A Theology of Liberation, but my recollections of the book were never of anything sinister, or even Marxists, as Martin depicts it. Quite frankly, I was very surprised by Martin’s vicious attack against this theology, as something diabolical that is overwhelming the Catholic Church. Martin appears to have great difficulty in recognizing and accepting that religions evolve. With the exception of God, nothing in the world is immutable. Everything changes. That which persists, does so because it adapts.
In this book, Martin predicts that Liberation Theology will lead to the demise of Jesuitism and severely damage Catholicism, but Martin never imagined that we would witness the installation of a Jesuit Pope in 2013 (Martin died in 1999). Remarkably, Pope Francis is not only the first Jesuit Pope, but he is also the first Pope from Latin America, which Martin identifies in the book as the breeding grounds for this new theology that he sees as so deviant.
The great thing about a good writer like Martin is that the research and factual reporting is typically so thorough that you can easily disagree with the theme and still benefit greatly from the reading. Such is the case with this book, in which Martin’s personal viewpoints come across as archaic, dusty, and obsolete; and yet the detail with which Martin writes allows the open minded reader to gain a very good perspective of the history of the Catholic Church. The book also accentuates ones understanding of the main divisions between Catholicism and the Protestant faith. As a result, this book holds a great deal of relevance for today’s reader and even more so since the rise to prominence of Pope Francis. In fact, I’d venture to say that this book would be indispensable to the edification of anyone seeking to understand the future directions of Catholicism.
In a manner akin to certain conservative talk show hosts, Martin sees communists around every corner. With accusations that reek of McCarthyism, Martin exhorts capitalism and democracy, while lamenting the expansion of socialism. Yet, in hypocritical contradiction, Martin somehow sees the totalitarian or monarchal organization of Catholicism as perfectly acceptable. There is something extremely difficult to digest in Martin’s contention that totalitarianism is appropriate for the Catholic Church but somehow diabolical in government.
There is a great divide between the teachings of Jesus Christ and those of ultra conservative talk show hosts. It is not truly possible to fully adhere to the teachings of both. Jesus proclaimed: “I have come to preach the good news to the poor, to set the downtrodden free, to redeem captives.” Jesus didn’t say that he had come to insure political mechanisms remain in place to permit people to hoard their resources. It is a hoarding that quickly leads to a flaunting and ultimately to the display of pompous frivolity in the very face of suffering and need. This is, unquestionably, a certain form of sin that is about in the world, disguised beneath a political façade. It is a sin of uplifting and praising those that flaunt decadence because of what they have, with less regard to what they are. It is a fundamental misunderstanding of Christ’s message.
I think that Martin misunderstands that systems of government are not the most relevant factor. Jesus sought to change men, not governments. Systems of government cannot do what necessarily requires changes in the hearts of men. A true Christian environment compels us to subordinate ourselves to love and righteousness before Nation States.
Martin’s conservative paranoia ultimately leads him to identify philanthropic movements in the church as a rising Humanism that he sees as contrary to traditional worship. Martin encourages the reader to refrain from putting faith in mankind because man is inherently sinful. But Martin fails to appreciate the part of Humanism that is congruent with the great commission: to love God and to love others with all your heart, soul, and mind. Quite simply, it is impossible to be a true Christian and to ignore human suffering about you. It is as impossible as a camel going through the eye of a needle. Serfs, slaves, the exploited, the politically oppressed, the poverty stricken, and the culturally isolated are essentially imprisoned by a social framework that refuses to fully acknowledge their plight and this hurt is exacerbated when such people are ignored by haughty, high minded folks who are more concerned with self adornment and rituals of exclusivity than with reaching down and lifting up their fellow beings.
What Martin sees as subversion in the Catholic Church, I see as a wave of necessary change. Martin would clearly argue the contrary, but there is something incredibly narcissistic in his arguments. Martin’s arguments favor a hierarchy headed by a monarch that can unilaterally dictate what is to be construed as religious fact. The Pope is indeed very similar to an ancient monarch, fully replete with elaborate costume, ritual, and requisite human deference from an entire caste of underlings. In contrast, I feel the need for religious governance (or should I say domination) is lessened as a man progresses toward a higher plane, transcending from ritualistic dictates of primitive religious systems, upward to an enhanced state of volitional conformance with righteousness. A state that is sustained by an indwelling of the Holy Spirit.
Martin exhibits the cage that binds so many. It is a cage that is constructed of rules, dogma, doctrines, and rituals, many of which are archaic and of questionable relevance in the modern world. To observe his fellow Catholics breaking free from this cage infuses Martin with a bitterness that is apparent throughout this book. In his fervent opposition to change, Martin exhibits a fundamental misunderstanding of the life of Christ and what Christ stood for. Christ blatantly opposed the very edifice of self-righteous theology that Martin clings to. Martin comes across like an old man, still attired in apparel that was worn centuries before.
Juxtapose the Protestant understanding that God communicates to us directly against the elaborate hierarchy of bishops, cardinals, and popes, and you may begin to see why such change is needed. But it is a change that Martin cannot stomach and which he snarls about throughout the book. Quite frankly, Martin seems to be lamenting what may be viewed as a sustained continuance of the Reformation. A continuation that increasingly recognizes that contemplation must be combined with action in order to ferment true spiritual growth. There are those who wish no less than to die completely harnessed by the Holy Spirit, engaged in a full passionate gallop for the Lord, right up until the very end.
A new world will be less the result of the success or failure of any particular religion or social system than it will be by changes in the attitudes of human beings. As painful as the alteration of tradition may be for immutable attitudes like Martins, change is inevitable. Had Martin been alive to witness the installation of the first Jesuit and South American Pope, the very shock of it would likely have killed him.