Does the Church Still Have a Prophetic Voice?

During his trip to the Philippines, Pope Francis said this about Blessed Paul VI in regards to the controversial 1968 encyclical Humanae Vitae:

“In a moment of that challenge of the growth of populations, he had the strength to defend openness to life.”

“He looked to the peoples beyond. He saw the lack and the problem that it could cause families in the future. Paul VI was courageous. He was a good pastor, and he warned his sheep about the wolves that were approaching, and from the heavens he blesses us today.”

In a small, but not insignificant way, the pope called Blessed Paul VI a prophet—one who was willing to stand up in the midst of discord, as a minority, and speak the prophetic word of God.

But we all know the reality.  No matter which statistics one chooses to cite, it is clear that most of the Western world does not regard Paul VI as a prophet in this particular stance.  Clearly, many people attempt to live the ideal offered by the church. Some even struggle and fail, but virtuously try again.  But for the most part, the church’s teaching on contraception is viewed as one small mistake in her deposit of faith and morals.

But this homily today is not about contraception. It’s not about making people feel guilty.  That is not my intention at all.  This homily is about raising some questions for us in regards to today’s readings.  Who are the prophets of our time?  If Blessed Paul VI was not a prophet, and if Saint John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and now Pope Francis were wrong too in seeing him as a prophet:  where are the prophets in our day?  

In the first reading today we hear Moses addressing his people.  After being a prophetic voice to his people who consistently denied him, who complained, and who questioned him, Moses makes a promise to the people.  He says that the Lord will raise up prophets for them after he goes.  The Lord will place his words into their mouths.  These prophets will convey to them what God wants them to hear. 

This promise was fulfilled down through the ages with various, courageous voices who spoke out even when they were ignored.  It continued, of course, until the appointed time when the Prophet came to the Earth.  The Prophet who spoke with power and authority.  The Prophet who spoke with both firmness and condemnation, but also with mercy, compassion and by his example.  The Prophet who was the truth, and held up that truth on the cross for the world to see.

But where is the prophetic Jesus today?  In one sense he has left us.  In his Ascension he has returned to Heaven.  But could we believe that he would leave us without guidance?  Would he leave us to wander this life of exile without knowing what to do, how to act, where to turn?  Even less than perfect parents desire for their kids to go through life with at least some guidance.  How much more would our Heavenly Father desire to guide us?  And so Jesus let the truth be discerned within his Church by the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  It’s what any good parent would do if they could.  It is what he has done for us.

But we have to be honest.  We know that the Church is not seen as prophetic.  At best the Church is seen to offer good advice that is applicable to some people.  But it certainly does not speak for all of humanity.  It does not even really speak for all Catholics.  She is most often seen as fallible, weak, sinful, misguided, out of touch, encroaching on our freedom, and on and on and on. 

But if the prophetic role of the Church is gone, then where do we turn?  For most of us we turn to ourselves.  We take it upon ourselves to determine what is best in life.  We create and construct and arrange our own sense of morality.   We find some passage in the bible to support our stance, we claim that this is our context, or we find a theologian or a bishop who will support our own sense of morality.  And so everyone becomes a prophet, and then no one is really a prophet. 

Now there is a very healthy sense that we must personally struggle with all of these issues.  We must seek to form our conscience and determine how to act and live our lives.  All of that is true.  But at the end of the day, when we are quiet and lying in bed:  are we really that certain that our own prophetic voice is the one we should follow?  Do we sleep in peace at night knowing that we are relying on our own limited knowledge of life and love and justice and truth, as compared to a Tradition that is promised to serve as our guide and help? 

It is obvious that in this homily I am asking a lot more questions than I normally do.  I do so treading lightly on this subject for I know it goes to the heart of so many of our lives as we struggle to live as Catholics in the Modern world.  But I am convinced that this is one of the fundamental, decisive issues for the church today.  Does the Church have a prophetic voice? Do we as Catholics as least make an attempt to follow that voice?

It is a fundamental issue for many reasons, and it bears upon many consequences, but I will name just three that perhaps we can consider:

First, if we laugh in the face of the Church and her teaching, if we slough it off mockingly as if it is out of touch and wrong, then we laugh in the face of so many people who have gone before us, and who live with us now, who take the Church’s guidance seriously. People who have struggled valiantly, but certainly not perfectly, to live the life that God is calling them to live.  And these people are our family members—biologically and spiritually.  And family members don’t treat each other this way.   Christian charity calls us to more.

Second, if we think the prophetic voice of the Church is gone, and we are each left to ourselves, then it will continue to be nearly impossible to spread the Good News?  Who would want to be part of something that cannot be distinguished from the world?  If the Church is just as unclear about how we are to live our lives as the world is, if the church leaves us to our own selves to determine what is right and wrong—then why be part of her?  When so many people who profess to be Catholic turn a blind eye to what the church asks of us, this is in the end what people see—a body of semi-believers of a Tradition that doesn’t offer much more than can be found in the world.   It is difficult to call this Good News.

Finally, if we don’t at least attempt with a sincere heart to live what the Church asks—AND I KNOW HOW HARD THIS IS—I UNDERSTAND THIS IN MY OWN LIFE—what is there to assure us that we are really following Jesus at all?  For Jesus is the foolishness to the Greeks; he is the stumbling block for the Jews; he is the stone rejected by the builders; he is the suffering servant; he is the flesh beaten down on the pillar; he is the head hallowed with thorns; he is the friend betrayed by his loved ones; he is the leader denied by the Rock; he is the king crucified on the cross.

And he calls us to the same thing.  His fate is our fate.  His death is our death.  A disciple is not greater than the master.  Following Jesus means the same end for us.  But if we don’t at least try to live the prophetic voice of the Church even if we fail:  What is there to guarantee that we are really trying to follow a savior who calls all of us to enter into the same sacrificial and difficult fate as his—to die on a cross in order that we might rise?

It is true that Jesus speaks with authority, that he has the power to cast out demons, that He has the power to raise us up on the last day:  but we must first be willing to die.