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A Spiritual Tonic: Conor Dugan Reviews '

By Conor Dugan | Wednesday, January 14, 1998

There is a wonderful prayer we Catholics have wrongly attributed to St. Francis of Assisi. Each time I recite the words they strike me—and scare me: 'Lord make me an instrument of Your Peace...For it is in giving that we receive...And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.' I say scary because faith is a struggle and a paradox.

For me faith is like knowing and seeing the road I must take to get to my desired destination: Salvation. Unfortunately, I keep touching the road and then taking the wrong exit, taking other roads, getting flats.

I know and see this road—Route Christian—yet, other routes offering pleasure and enjoyment, ease and quick fulfillment call my name; they glitter and are much more attractive.

I wonder why I should bother with the road of Christianity when I can delight in hedonistic pleasures and materialistic trinkets of the here and now. These roads make sense—put in little effort and get immediate pleasure. The weathered and bumpy route of Christianity is foggy and uncertain.

Nearer My God: An Autobiography of Faith is about this struggle and paradox of faith. It is William F. Buckley Jr.'s personal story of the paradoxes and struggles, questions and answers, that he has encountered in his lifetime as a Catholic.

I should quickly point out that Nearer My God is not for everyone. For those who don't enjoy questions of God, doctrine, liturgy, conversion, etc. this is a book to be avoided. And for those who desire a theological dissertation, this book will not satisfy.

Rather, this is the book for the religious, for the atheist interested in a personal account of faith in all its intricacies, for the agnostic looking for one more example of a religious man.

Buckley opens appropriately by detailing the early years of his life, especially those at Catholic boarding school. Several stories and anecdotes stick out here. First is Buckley's description of family and home life. I was struck by the love which seemed to flow effortlessly amongst his siblings and parents (Buckley is one of ten children).

Another is the story of his headmaster, Father Sharkey. One day Sharkey was asked by a woman whether or not dogs went to Heaven. Fr. Sharkey explained that there was no 'scriptural authority for animals getting into Heaven.' To that the woman answered that she would never be happy in Heaven without her beloved dog. The headmaster, not missing a beat, answered that her dog would go to Heaven, because one is certain to be happy in Heaven. It is these anecdotes—both Buckley's and those of whom he quotes—sprinkled throughout that make Nearer My God so enjoyable.

Some flaws do exist—some which Buckley admits in his introduction. He quotes too much from other authors. He explains that these quotations are those which had an impact upon him. In a personal account of faith frequent quotation is expected. However, one chapter which paraphrased the dialogue and debate between Arnold Lunn and Ronald Knox was too much for me. I found it interesting but I would much rather read their book for myself. He also quotes a 15 page Crucifixion vision. I found this a bit much as well.

Those, however, are the only major complaints I can make against the book. I found one of the best aspects of the book to be the forum of Catholic Converts which Buckley assembled and questioned. Among them are Dartmouth graduate Father George Rutler and Dartmouth professor emeritus Jeffrey Hart. Another interesting member of the forum is Father Richard John Neuhaus. I find Neuhaus such an interesting character because for much of his life he was a Lutheran pastor. Only seven years ago, he converted to Catholicism and became a priest.

Buckley engages these converts on a slew of issues: miracles, the life of Jesus, contraception, divorce, the blessings of Catholicism, priestly celibacy, etc. I found their answers and Buckley's commentary to be quite illuminating, though I must make another criticism. Buckley should have taken his analysis of birth control further. He says that though his 'incomplete understanding of natural law balks' at the Church's teaching against birth control he'd 'counsel dutiful compliance with it.'

I applaud this stance. He adds that 'there is reliable evidence that the faithful are simply ignoring' this teaching. I think he misses the boat here. It might be better explained that the teaching of the Church on birth control is not promulgated and explained.

I know that in my own experience I have yet to hear a priest in a homily explain the teaching of the Church or the moral way in which to limit a family, Natural Family Planning (NFP). I have heard the snickers and criticisms of fellow Catholics as they represent the teaching as archaic and backward. I too joined in.

Certainly, one can come to the conclusion as Hart and many others in the church do, that the teaching is off base.

But, too many Catholics act counter to the teaching because they have likely never heard it expressed except by the mass media in a negative light. And this is where Buckley should have devoted some time. That is, to the sickly way in which most Catholics today are educated on doctrine and Chuch teaching.

The main thing I gathered from the forum is that the converts to Catholicism come because of doctrinal stability and coherence—by Catholicism's ability to retain a consistency over time.

The forum seemed to attribute this to the difference between Protestantism's emphasis on the individual judgment and Catholicism's emphasis on authority and tradition. As Russell Kirk, another member of the forum, explains, 'What I found in the Church was Authority. Catholicism is governed by Authority; Protestants, by Private Judgment. I had become painfully aware of the insufficiency of Private Judgment in the twentieth century—every man creating his own morals.' Buckley makes it even more interesting by asking what, if anything, had held up the members from converting to Catholicism. (Their answers are too diverse to generalize.)

It was in the chapter in which he asked the converts why they converted that Buckley quotes one of the most remarkable lines I have ever read (and it is too good not to share.) He quotes Father Andrew Greeley, novelist and sociologist, as saying, 'Search for the perfect church if you will; when you find it, join it, and realize that on that day it becomes something less than perfect.' Buckley ends the chapter with that line for an important reason. He and Greeley (and many others) are making the point that the sins of a church's members do not obviate the truth that that tradition holds. Rather, one must realize that no church is perfect because of people such as the reader; people who are sinners. Our joining of a church does not change its essential truth.

Buckley also gives us personal accounts of his pilgrimage to Lourdes and the ordination of his nephew. The chapter on Lourdes is one of the best in the book. In it I realized along with the author the sheer universality of Christianity. Each person there (at Lourdes) no matter color, origin, or social status, came for 'the spiritual tonic' the Shrine afforded.

Buckley's chapter brings home to me the thought encapsulated in the last line of the chapter: each pilgrim there—and each pilgrim on this planet searching for faith and salvation—is a 'member of the family.' And in this lies one of Buckley's important points.

We can extend this to understand why he draws on so many others. It is not because he desired to make his work easier, but because his faith has been buttressed by his siblings, parents, his forum, Muggeridge, his nephew, by the whole Christian family.

The discussion of his nephew's ordination also had a personal effect upon me as well. I have often contemplated the priesthood—wondered if I were being called—but also wondered how one can give up so much to answer the call. Buckley feels the same way and desires to get a glimpse of the answer he, you, I, even his nephew, can never fully know.

The book is filled with the sort of spiritual tonic the pilgrims hoped to find at Lourdes. Whether trying to figure out the question of why God would allow an earthquake to kill 400 innocent people, or lamenting the end of the Latin Mass, or discussing Malcom Muggeridge and his illuminations on Christian discipleship, Buckley strikes the spiritual chords of the Catholic, the Christian, the religious, and the interested atheist. It is a flawed, imperfect book—though any book on our imperfect faith must be.

However, in the end, I think the book is a success and that it has a certain power because Buckley addresses and struggles to answer the very questions and paradoxes I too often fail to answer myself—that we all too often fail to answer ourselves. The point is not that Route Christian is the road which always glitters, or the one whose road signs are clear and easy to read, or even that is always a smooth ride. The point is that it is a road traveled with the help of those who are members of the Christian family, and ultimately, one traveled by faith.