Ein eigenes Gebet hat unser Papst für die Bischofssynode verfaßt, die vom 5. bis zum 19. Oktober in Rom stattfindet, und deren Thema “die pastoralen Herausforderungen der Familie im Kontext der Evangelisierung” sind. Oder zumindest sein sollten. Statt dessen geht es seit Monaten vor deren Beginn um Einzelfragen und Teilaspekte; vor allem um die Zulassung von wiederverheirateten Geschiedenen zur Kommunion. Und der Streit spitzt sich zu.
Warum? Der australische Kardinal und Papst-Vertraute George Pell bringt es in einem jetzt veröffentlichten Text knallhart auf den Punkt: “Gesunde Gemeinschaften verbrennen den Großteil ihrer Energien nicht auf nebensächliche Themen”, schreibt er mit Blick auf die Auseinandersetzung. Inzwischen habe sich an dieser Frage ein Kampf entzündet, der viel mehr verhandle als nur diese Minderheiten-Problematik.
Auch wenn man die Haltung Pells zur Zulassungsfrage nicht teilt – mit einem hat der australische Kardinal recht: Einen Stellvertreterkrieg anhand dieses Themas zu führen ist weder hilfreich noch angebracht. Vielmehr macht ein solcher deutlich, wie wichtig und dringend nötig eine Synode über die Familie ist. Denn sie ist nicht nur das unverzichtbare “Fundament der Gesellschaft” (Gaudium et Spes, 52), sondern sollte als “Hauskirche” auch eine “Schule und Vorbild” für unseren Umgang miteinander sein (vgl. Katechismus der Katholischen Kirche, 2027). Wenn es nur so wäre.
So we were sitting up on the panel in the auditorium of the Pontifical University of Santa Croce. It had already been a long day, though it was only 3.30 in the afternoon. I had a few more minutes to gather my thoughts before our presentation and discussion. Dozens of people were filling up the seats, firing up laptops and tablets, checking their earpieces that provided simultaneous translations into one of four languages. I saw a bishop speaking to a small group of young, well-dressed women and men, presumably students of the university. Next to me, Matthew Bunson was going through his presentation paper.
That morning, we had been at Saint Peter’s square by 6.30, hoping to catch an early mass with a priest and two other German pilgrims we had met. However, people had already begun queueing up for the weekly General Audience. We could not get inside the basilica. Of the more than one million people who had travelled to Rome for the canonisation of Pope John XXIII and John Paul II, many had stayed for a few more days. So we had stopped for breakfast – the priest knew just where to go – and then walked over to the Salle Stampa to take part in the first point in the conference programme that day: an opportunity to talk to Federico Lombardi SJ, the spokesperson and head of the Vatican press offices. Father Lombardi was very candid about the relief the “new” pope’s public persona has provided to his own role: no longer does he feel entrenched and stuck in a more defensive position, since the secular media has greeted Francis with enthusiasm and an open, welcoming stance. At the same time, the affable Jesuit also described some of the challenges the spontaneous nature of the Holy Father posed – before taking questions from the fully filled press room.
Digital challenge to print media
Afterwards, we had walked back to the university and taken lunch there, before finally gathering again in the plenary auditorium for the two final sessions: The presentations of Matthew Bunson and myself, as well as – saving the best for last – an encounter with Joaquin Navarro-Walls, the director of communications for Saint Pope John Paul II.
Over the last two days, dozens of speakers had given talks – the program offered several simultaneous sessions – and included speeches by Cardinals Dolan and Barbarin, the Archbishops of New York and Lyon, respectively, as well as Austen Ivereigh, who heads Catholic Voices, the well-known Washington law professor and activist Helen Alvaré, and many others. I had written copious amounts of notes, met many interesting new colleagues and already filed reports for radio and my own paper of the canonisation – since the day before the conference even started, we had experienced the historic event right in the middle of Rome.
So, here we were. The auditorium was full, and the Dean of Communications, Prof. José Maria LaPorte, greeted the attendants, introduced the panel and asked Fr. Christian Mendoza to give an introductory speech that outlined the topic: the challenge of the digital revolution to Catholic communications – in particular print journalism. This topic was right up my alley. Having started my journalism career in print back in the 1990s, I had learnt the craft in the typical and traditional setting of a broadsheet daily newspaper before moving on to work in TV and broadcast journalism in general both in Germany and Australia for well over a decade. I had experienced journalism at every level and across all media, in commercial and public, as well as recently in religious institutions, from the line to senior executive levels. What is more, my (still not completed) PhD thesis struggles with a very abstract but (in my view) crucial aspect of journalism: its epistemology, the question of how journalism knows what it knows and then shares with the world, in the process producing a public sphere (or contributing to it), hopefully providing some checks and balances for society.
Exposing the false idol
For my presentation, I had decided to focus on two aspects the digital communications revolution has brought about –– points that affect communications in general and journalism in particular: firstly, the de-professionalisation of the craft at a time when we need quality journalism more than ever; and secondly, the opportunities this provides for communication, especially for Church communication – after all, a field on the defensive in an often hostile secular setting, but paradoxicaly blessed with arguably the best “product” anyone could ever hope for: the literally good news of the Gospel.
Now, apart from a bunch of great practical possibilities the ongoing revolution provides, I was going to argue that an important but also risky opportunity had arisen: to expose the false idol of primitive objectivity with which – since early modernity – the press had obfuscated and at the same time reified its social legitimacy.
Exposing this false idol was risky in the sense that if we (Catholic communicators) were not going to do so – and use this window of opportunity to professionalise and legitimise a “Catholic” (in inverted commas!) journalism and communication – then it would be closed on us. This would have dire consequences, given that we live in a time where even the basic Catechesis in the Faith is happening in the media, as Cardinal Dolan had pointed out in his opening address at the conference.
Three concrete suggestions
After an excellent presentation by the author and journalist Matthew Bunson (more on this in a separate post), I launched into my own talk. And everyting progressed really well – till about half way through the presentation, I realised that the somewhat abstract problem of this false idol really was far too complex and abstract for the setting of this seminar. I soldiered on, simply stating the conclusions of my research and finishing with three concrete suggestions:
Firstly, I believe we should specialise and re-professionalise. In secular culture, knowledge of the truths, beauty and simple facts of our Faith are less and less part of common knowledge. Expertly and professionally sharing the splendours – and also the less dazzling aspects – of how our faith is expressed in prayers, liturgy, but also acts of charity (and what it provides to those that believe!), is not just imbued with the joy of the gospel, but powerful storytelling and potentially fantastic journalism: credible, authentic – and real, not just objective.
Secondly, let us engage and educate. Being knowledgeable and communicate well about our Faith and its expression in the works of the Church, the works of charity, and so on, is one part; the other is to engage audiences wherever they are. Who is helping cradle Catholics by informing them about the Church and what we believe – rather than letting them get that information from secular media, as – I would guess – more than 90% do? Which Catholic media outlet today is talking to the many millions of Muslim migrants amongst us, for instance? I believe this is part of the Catholic journalist’s job description.
Thirdly and finally, I am convinced that none of these suggestions, or other attempts we might tackle, will bear fruit if they are not informed and imbued by our own connection to God through an active participation in the sacraments and a regular, active prayer life. Too many Catholic journalists, myself included, write more about the Church then they pray or participate in and with her. However, it is that objectivity that we need: of the interior life, our relationship with Jesus Christ and his Church.
Über “Fantasy Francis”, falsche Idole und die beste Prophylaxe geht es diesmal in der Wochenkolumne.
Kennen Sie den Watschenbaum von Washington? Robert Gates? Er war nicht nur Barack Obamas Verteidigungsminister, bekannt für seine ruhige und ausgeglichene Art. Er war eine der wichtigsten Säulen der “Administration”, wie die Regierung in den USA genannt wird. Obama nannte Gates sogar “einen der besten” Verteidigungminister, den die USA je gehabt habe. Nun hat dieser hochgeschätzte Politiker in einem sehr kritischen Buch öffentlich mit Barack Obama und seiner Regierung abgerechnet. Von wegen Säule! Eben ein echter Watschenbaum, der da in Washington umgefallen ist.