Politics and Our Humanity

‘I’m a relativist” are words I never expected to hear Father Paul Scalia say. A Catholic priest and a son of the late Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia, he is not exactly an anything-goes kind of man. Speaking at a Catholic Vote summit on the upcoming election, he used those words to make sure everyone was listening. Politics isn’t everything — that was the point he wanted the crowd gathered in Washington, D.C., to hear. He invited us to consider politics in relation to the importance of faith and family. Growing up and now serving in the D.C. area, he said, he’s seen too many people who, in the busyness of the business of politics, have lost track of that fundamental point — neglecting faith and family, without which we can lose our minds and souls — and our republic.

I was thinking of this while waiting for a train in the bustle of an East Coast station the other day. I decided to take a seat on a waiting-room bench, intending to work on my laptop to meet a deadline, when a woman hollered at me for daring to trespass on her home. I don’t think the bench she occupied was a regular spot for her — she had a ticket in hand that had kept an Amtrak policeman from escorting her away minutes before. But her outburst had me wondering what had happened to her to get her to that point. The white blouse she wore seemed to suggest an innocence she had longed for someone to protect. Her legs were bare except for bandages she had apparently been wearing so long they seemed to be blending into her skin. This told a tale of woundedness that would have been clear without her yelling at me.

“That man let his son go to the bathroom alone with all that sh*t going on,” one man, seemingly coming out of nowhere, announced to a different Amtrak officer. In fairness to Target and its bathroom policies, and to President Obama and his public-school edict, sending your son (or daughter) to a train-station — or bus-station (especially bus) — bathroom alone has not been a good idea for a long time, for a whole host of reasons.

This duet seemed to be some kind of metaphor for the presidential election and the collective “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it any more” rebel yell that shouldn’t have taken either party by surprise. Americans feel betrayed. Their anger has so many stories and burdens and worries below it. And they are looking for a way out. Even if the options aren’t solid, they want something different. They’re taking a gamble on “It can’t be worse.”

Of course, it could be worse. But Donald Trump didn’t start the fire. And Bernie Sanders isn’t actually a revolution. But they do seem to be opt-out buttons for many.

Father Scalia spoke a few hours after the National Catholic Prayer Breakfast, which has become a place Catholic leaders from throughout the country gather every year. I was struck this year by both the pervading despair about politics and the number of people who came up to me seemingly wanting me to reassure them that they have to vote for Donald Trump — something I was not able to do.

Instead, by the end of the breakfast, I could point them to the words of the keynote speaker, Cardinal Robert Sarah, from Guinea, a high-ranking Vatican official, as they say. Cardinal Sarah told us that the world prays that the United States of America gets things right. It was a reminder of what gifts we have as citizens of a country whose founding documents acknowledge a Creator and look to protect life and liberty, and to support and encourage a happiness that has roots in more than the ephemeral.

Cardinal Sarah spoke after my friend Sister Constance Veit from the Little Sisters of the Poor, who have inexplicably had to spend time in court because of a stubborn Obama-administration health-insurance mandate, which means that if they want to have coverage, they have to accept a policy that is contrary to their beliefs. Despite the distraction of this court case, Sister Constance emanates joy, another reminder that first things come first, even when one is engaged in high-level public matters. Cardinal Sarah, mentioning the White House bathroom guidelines — “Should not a biological man use the men’s restroom? How simpler can that concept be?” — said, “The battle for the soul of America and the soul of the world is primarily spiritual.” As it happens, the third of the trio who addressed the prayer breakfast, Speaker of the House Paul Ryan, concurred, speaking of a spiritual void that leads to things like the opioid epidemic.

Back at the Newark train station, a young boy had a look of catastrophic concern. He wanted a cold drink. A chocolate milk his mother soon bought him did the trick. Another young boy had a look of magnificent wonder as he played with his blue bouncy ball, seemingly unaware of a world beyond. A family of four headed to a ball game, appearing, for the moment, to have no more serious concern than finding the right track. Honoring and protecting life and love, being good stewards, realizing that this political spectacle we’re watching isn’t everything — focusing on and nurturing and honoring real human relationships — will get us somewhere better.