Whether one likes it or not – and I do not – Donald Trump is the President-elect of US – the most powerful nation in the world. Not because Hillary Clinton does not have serious flaws, but so far she looked more suited for the post than him. Of course, history might prove me wrong.
The questions people are most frequently asking is “why did the Americans prefer him to Hillary?” Clinton’s words were nasty but not comparable to Trump’s. The New York Times listed 282 people, places and things he has hurled insults at. Yet he won the election. What made voters vote for him?
The three main reasons according to political analysts were: firstly, Trump knew what many Americans were singing, and he sang from the same hymn sheet; secondly, he understood the anti-Establishment feeling and ran in its direction; and thirdly, he knew that the electorate wanted change, and he promised it.
Those who voted for him were so blinded by a boring status quo that they preferred to ignore his mistakes, even huge mistakes. As a populist, he made his audience believe in the power of ‘the common man’ as opposed to the power to the elite who were born and bred in politics. We have seen it before: Silvio Berlusconi and Umberto Bossi attacked those they pejoratively referred to as “professional politicians” and “Roma Capitale”.
In one way or another we are all tempted by this tune. Neither individual Christians nor Church authorities are excluded from this temptation. In our ministry one often feels caught between a rock and a hard place. The choice becomes harder when what is at issue is not principles but praxis.
The way forward cannot be discerned by looking back or seeking what is stable and safe. John Paul II’s “duc in altum” is not consonant with that. The Church in the world is sailing on waves, not on solid ground.
Populism can also be found in our pastoral practice
The big word is the need for communal discernment. San Ġorġ Preca used a simpler language that ‘the common man’ can recognise: “If Jesus were here now, how would he behave in this present situation?” It seems quite simple, but it is not. It is not simple because is a based on a premise that is not always easy.
No one knows how Jesus would act here and now unless one knows Jesus very well. Unless one is his friend as he called his disciples to be: “I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.” (John 15:15).
On the other hand one should be on one’s guard not to rest on this calling to construct some sort of ‘God-and-me’ spirituality. This should be the basis of a relevant pastoral action. Otherwise the Church will start singing from the ‘people’s’ hymnbook rather than imitating Christ. The Church cannot avoid dissonance. The people of God are a voice in the desert, not a medieval fiefdom.
As God’s children our happiness is in the seeking, the misery in the certainty, for as St Paul teaches us “now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” (1 Cor. 13:12).
Our criterion should not be what the people in the pew desire or insist on, much less our private likes or dislikes, but the greatest glory of God.
Hence populism can also be found in our pastoral practice. Nostalgia, and moreover nostalgic behaviour, by definition will not give life. It is only a sentimental longing (often sugar-coated by righteous statements) for a period that is dead.
This infatuation for the past is not infrequently tied to regret of the present. We can observe among some of us a longing for traditional ‘desirables’. Some are going so far as to reinvent tradition, in the same way as tourism marketers do to keep their business going. But like Trump, they will only attract their kind of Christians, rather than search for the lost sheep.
joe.inguanez@gmail.com
Fr Joe Inguanez, a sociologist, is executive director of Discern.