Catholics in New York 1808-1946. (The Museum of the City of New York, May 16 through December 31)
The daily news for those of us who adhere to the Roman Catholic persuasion here is a dreary one: churches, schools and hospitals closing; clerical vocations and lay religious practice dwindling; perverted, thieving and just plain crazy priests grabbing the headlines. In spite of the momentary dazzle of a papal visit, it would appear that Catholicism in this part of the country is locked into a steady, irreversible decline. In such near-apocalyptic circumstances, it seems appropriate that “Catholics” should become now an object of sociological and historical interest on the part of secular science. The Museum of the City of New York accordingly has dedicated a major new exhibit to us – before we entirely disappear.
This exhibit is, perhaps surprisingly, quite good. As one could expect, the focus is relentlessly secular – but in this area, avoiding the perspective of the “insiders” is a positive advantage. If the clerical establishment had organized the exhibit, for example, the visitor would have to endure a dreary narrative of the succession of bishops, of congresses, councils and official visits with special attention paid to the current incumbent. If representatives of the religious orders and “Catholic scholars” had had their say, we would have been treated to a chronicle of the victimization of women, minorities and the laity in general at the hands of a reactionary clergy and theology prior to the liberation event of Vatican II – and perhaps beyond.
The Museum has chosen to focus on the ‘Catholics”, in particular the laity, as a sociological, quasi-ethnic concept. It gives a sympathetic account of the rise of a community that, starting around 1800 as a small, marginalized minority, gradually evolved into the dominant religious faith of the largest city in America. These same Catholics in time became politically – if never economically or culturally – dominant as well.
The bulk of the exhibit is largely made up of photographs accompanied by relatively clear explanatory texts. A certain number of objects relating to Catholic faith and history are also presented to the visitor. It is surreal for me to see the material aspects of the faith with which I grew up – and which still inform the lives of a resolute minority – described in the same manner as the artifacts of the tomb of Tutankhamen. Holy cards, statues, mass vestments, scapulars and rosaries are displayed and explained for the benefit of a public assumed to be utterly ignorant of such things.
The exhibit centers on four aspects of this former Catholic world: the parish system; the parochial schools; charitable enterprises; and, finally, political action (including labor and ethnic organizations). We see the key role the parish played in the self-understanding of “pre-conciliar” Catholics. One impressive item on display is a model lovingly fashioned out of wood by a parishioner of the church of St John the Evangelist in Manhattan. The exhibit neglects to inform us that this same church was leveled in the late 1960’s in order to free up the site for the monstrous archdiocesan headquarters.
The many schools run by seemingly innumerable orders of nuns are fondly remembered by their graduates. The sheer scale of the role the Catholic Church came to play in organized charity may come as a surprise. There are, for example, heartrending letters of mothers inquiring about their babies left to the care of the Sisters of Charity at the New York Foundling Hospital in the 19th century. Finally, Catholic political involvement gets its due: Tammany Hall, Al Smith, The Catholic Worker etc. The fierce anti-communism of the Catholic people is not concealed either.
The exhibit’s detailed narrative sets in around 1800, develops in density and richness up until the end of World War II, but then abruptly fades away in the post war era. Perhaps this exhibit’s most revealing statement is the absence of almost anything dating post- 1965. The final text of the exhibit, while praising the “richness” brought to the church by new ethnic groups, points out the loss of many of the rituals, practices and customs – such as meatless Fridays, the Latin liturgy, and the orders of nuns – that had distinguished the Catholic world from the surrounding society. Later, what was left of the Catholic community would be shaken by the scandals of clerical misconduct. This being a secular exhibit, there is no hesitation in identifying the culprit in this unhappy sate of affairs: Vatican II. Catholics have endured, is the exhibit’s conclusion – while losing most of their former cohesiveness, sense of identity and political influence as well.
We of course do have reservations regarding this exhibit’s primarily sociological approach. The visitor hears much about politics, the strength of community life and charitable initiatives. That the Catholic community, however, is also the bearer of a religion its members (at least in the era covered by this exhibit) passionately believe is true both for themselves and for the whole world does not come across very clearly. Still less attention is given to the ambition of the Catholic Church to convert the rest of the American people outside of the Catholic immigrant milieu (although some exhibit space it given to the 19th century Paulists). We should have wished more analysis of the Catholic culture not merely as a sociological fact but as the product of the doctrines, rituals and values of the religion that brought it forth.
Other aspects of Catholic life receive insufficient attention. Surprisingly, little is said about Catholics who were prominent in the business and legal worlds – a real limitation in describing a place like New York whose very life is business. There is also little or no mention of Catholic involvement in the arts, literature or the culture of the nation. Now, despite obvious limitations, Catholic did contribute here and there. Edgar Allen Poe liked to discuss matters with Jesuit priests at Fordham. At the end of the 19th century, John Lafarge was an important painter. Later, Jack Kerouac wandered in and out of several downtown churches while Thomas Merton “patronized’ Corpus Christi parish near Columbia. Not a few of the churches built between 1860 and 1920 represent important contributions to architecture, sculpture and painting: St. Patrick’s, St. Stephen, St. Paul’s, St Vincent Ferrer, and Blessed Sacrament.
It is true, however, that the exhibit’s silence on matters of “higher” culture indicates a perceived gap. Outside of some heroic exceptions, Catholics appear not to have done enough to educate themselves to a level that would enable them to contend for the intellectual leadership of a rapidly sinking American culture. Instead, a purely defensive attitude tended to prevail. As time went on this relative indifference to the life of the spirit would be a very great limitation indeed. This is the grain of truth in the loud denunciations of a supposed pre-conciliar “ghetto” by the revolutionaries of the 1960’s.
Even given these limitations, I would recommend the exhibit to everyone who wants to know about the ‘good old days” – which turn out to have been rather good indeed. For those familiar only with the post-conciliar era, it will be a revelation to meet the self- confident, well-organized and internally harmonious Catholic culture that lasted up to the 1960’s. That world has admittedly disappeared – can it rise again? When we see new traditional communities and parishes gathering, with their relative youth and strong sense of faith, we may have hope for some future age.
See: http://www.mcny.org/exhibitions/current/684.html
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