The late Joseph Sobran speaking at St. Thomas More parish, April of 1999 -- a blast from the past . . .
On-the-scene report from the Blithe Spirit archives . . .
Two hundred or so Catholics gathered 4/12/99 at St. Thomas More Parish on the Southwest Side, madder than hell and unwilling to take it any more -- this being a going definition of conservative.
The priest in charge, who celebrates Latin mass on Sundays, suggested $10 each to cover cost of the evening -- not much considering the delicious spread which I would put up against a Methodist spread any day, which is going some.
The speaker was columnist Joseph Sobran -- one of the early happy few on the staff of Wm. F. Buckley's National Review but not so sure he likes it any more.
Indeed, the priest introduced Sobran as one whom Buckley had once wished he could write like, adding that he the priest wished Buckley could or would think like Sobran. The priest had apparently parted ways with Buckley, whether Buckley knew it or not. So had Sobran, and Buckley knew that.
Sobran told of growing up in Ypsilanti, Michigan, next door to the church where he'd been baptized. He mentioned "alienism" and "heterophobia" as social diseases of our day. Diversity, for instance, has become "a new name for conformity."
He dressed in black, like Johnny Cash or the priest, except (in both cases) for his near-black four-in-hand and white shirt.
Some sharp notions . . . As for alienism, we live in an alien state protecting everyone from everything, he said -- homophobia, for instance. Children are protected from everything but being aborted.
We have to decentralize power, he said, citing a 1942 Supreme Court case about the Inter Commerce Commission, which did away more or less with state lines. We ought to abolish taxes, get the state out of education. There's no such thing as education anyhow, as GK Chesterton said, only teaching.
The wrong side won the Civil War, which destroyed the right to secede, so that in 1973, with the Roe v. Wade decision, states were helpless to resist: some would have seceded if they could — over their inability to forbid abortion.
The constitution as a living letter (as liberals say) is a dead letter. The state has no more business running schools than running the church. The court has gone so far that now it's engaged largely in defending not the constitution but itself.
Sobran had an anarchist friend whose arguments he could not refute. (Sobran's an anarchist. You meet Catholic anarchists. The late Dorothy Day, who founded the Catholic Worker movement, regularly published an anarchist friend in her penny newspaper. She spoke of "holy mother the state," mocking statism.)
Toward the end of his opening remarks, he spotted anti-abortion activist Joe Scheidler in the audience, eliciting applause for him.
Looking back in sadness . . . During questions, Sobran recommended that Catholics secede, setting up a Catholic commonwealth. ("On the South Side," a man called out.)
He called for taxing churches, which he said would be much less prone to liberalism if they weren't tax-exempt. (Isn't that interesting?)
In view of the Yugoslavia bombing, he no longer dismisses Russian accusation of U.S. imperialism.
As to how to achieve those goals he mentioned, he backed off, referring them to activist Scheidler. "I'm not a practical politician," he said.
A man from Oak Park (not I) quoted Bishop Raymond Goedert, Chicago auxiliary, from a "backyard theology" meeting, to this effect: The worst thing to come out of Vatican Council II was the substitution of the homily (reflections on Scripture) for sermons defining and redefining Catholics' "creed, code, and cult," that is, beliefs, laws, worship, "cult" being a direct steal from the Latin "cultus," which in this context means worship.
Such sermons were often enough prescribed by the bishop for the whole diocese, with resulting ongoing instruction of the faithful in what was presumably common to all. Reflections on Scripture, on the other hand, range far and wide and become personal statements by the preacher, usually a priest.
Sobran recalled a (Catholic) church of yesteryear which was "evangelizing all the time," pushing its message. Picking up on this, a woman said, to applause, that she "wouldn't give you a nickel for the whole archdiocese of Chicago."
Devotions to duty . . . "I would return the communion rail" to churches (where people received communion kneeling), said Sobran, warming to the topic. "We are treating the body of Christ (communion wafer) like a cookie" -- this in reference to communion in the hand, Protestant-style, rather than directly on outstretched tongue.
(An ad in the latest, Spring, issue of The Latin Mass magazine is for an audio cassette lecture, "The Truth about Communion in the Hand," by one John Vennari, editor of Catholic Family News, billed as "the lecture that has caused Eucharistic ministers [lay people who give out communion] to resign!")
As part of an ongoing critique of society, a priest of "the Marian movement" saw "God's purifying hand in disasters and wars."
Another questioner wondered whether to vote for a completely anti-abortion candidate without a prayer or a somewhat anti-abortion candidate with one. Sobran said we should "consecrate" our votes rather than worry about wasting them. "It may be the last thing you do," he said. "Do it right."
A man, laying it on the line to the other 200, asked how many "spend an hour a day before the Blessed Sacrament praying for peace." Five or six people at his table raised their hands.
Who needs Masons anyhow? . . . Another asked, "Why not bring abortion to a world court as a crime against humanity? Put it on TV."
Sobran, as throughout, fielded questions by picking up the thread of what was said. This time he noted, "They publicize gore in Yugoslavia but not abortion. I ask, 'What do they dramatize and how?' In what they dramatize they imply you should care about some things and not others." (Clearly)
Vouchers came up -- public money for private schooling. A woman saw danger there, "because of [government] strings attached." There were murmurs of agreement at this.
In a question about enemies lurking, a man asked about "Masonic infiltration of the church."
"Some believe it," said Sobran, sidestepping neatly. "But there seems no need for it at this point . . ."
What has he done for them lately? . . . A man asked if "we are to celebrate diversity." (Clearly not from Oak Park.) Sobran said, "All kinds of cultures have been brought into the church and been baptized." He blamed the bemoaning of lack of diversity of "obtuse latecomers" to the Catholic scene.
A man from the John Birch Society said he'd be available afterwards with membership information, then asked if in Yugoslavia Clinton was wagging the dog in order to get Chinagate out of the newspapers.
In ensuing discussion either he or Sobran said Clinton was "going down as the worst dirty joke in history."
Finally, a woman wanted to talk turkey about Sobran's goals, mentioned, earlier in his talk -- sharp decentralization of political power, abolition of taxes, removal of government from schooling, restoration of the right to secede from the union, etc., asking, "Once your goals are met, then what?"
I forget what he said.
Superb in all respects. "Children are protected from everything but being aborted" alone is worth reading the article for. For those of us who saw Clinton's use of NATO to bomb the former Yugoslavia for 78 days in 1999 as a pivotal historical point, I first spied the date of Sobran's presentation as being in the very middle of that crime. The nation's capital was at the time the first European one to be bombed since WWII. Pope John Paul II pleaded with the U.S. and NATO to suspend bombing during Easter (both Western and Eastern); to no avail. That Sobran so forcefully addressed that issue when others, that is aside from those liberals and progressives who celebrated it, cravenly slunk away from doing so, adds yet more to my admiration of this great man.