Why, then, are churches chosen to become conference halls? Let's say it brutally: to desacralize them. I cannot affirm that this was an express will; for such an express will is not necessary in order to desacralize. These facts are inscribed rather in a habitual purpose, in different dioceses, that in liturgical matters we should do the opposite of what was practiced in other times (and with optimal results). The validity of sacrality was coherent with the grandeur, beauty, and sublimity of the building of worship.Why, then, are cathedrals and other temples the settings for these convocations? The Kirchnerist political narrative and the Bergoglian ecclesiastical narrative have coincided in a new secular religion. The lecturers are the officiants of the new cult; the parishioners are the irreconcilable politicians, miraculously reconciled for a short while. I apologize for the ironic comment I have just made; however, I am convinced that it expresses the profound meaning of what happened in these churches.
It is enough to reread the Pauline Letters to see that according to the great Apostle and the Church that was contemporary to him, unity and peace in the world depend on conversion to Christ. In some way, with the art of pastoral discourse, it is necessary to present to political leaders, as to society as a whole, the need to be converted to the Gospel. It does not respond to the Church's mission, according to the Lord's command, to avoid the very core of preaching -- much less, to accommodate the Gospel to the taste and tolerance of politicians or society.
Let us take as an example Paul's attitude in the Areopagus of Athens before Stoic and Epicurean philosophers. The altar dedicated to the unknown God (Agnóstō Theō) inspired in him a lesson in theodicy: he uncovered to the listeners the meaning of that title and introduced them to that God whom they worshipped without knowing him, in whom "we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28). But the purpose of his discourse was to announce the Risen Christ, Redeemer and Judge of men. Some of the listeners scoffed, but others gave a positive response: "We will hear you speak about it again" (Akousómetha sou perì toutou kaì pálin, Acts 17:32). Those people were restless and eager to hear news, Luke, author of the Book that is the second volume of his Gospel, points out.
The meaning that one wants to give to acts of this type leads whoever wishes to interpret it, for example, to the basic problem of Argentinean Catholicism. Is ours a Catholic country? Father Leonardo Castellani answered in the affirmative, but he added that it was with a "mistongo" [miserable, low-quality] Catholicism. This reality, present to some extent since its origins, has historically upset the heads of the Church. At present, and I believe that without much effort of interpretation, the dislocation of the Argentine Episcopal Conference, whose discourse is usually quite alien to the cultural and social reality of the country, is noticeable. There is, yes, an awareness of the division, of the aggressiveness of the political factions, and the somewhat illusory concern to overcome them.
The same illusion is reflected by the Pontiff in his various messages. In the panorama of the not very serious Catholicism (that means the qualification of "mistongo", according to Castellani), a good number of serious Catholics stand out -- they would be recognized as "backwardists" in Rome -- people convinced that the political malaise and other penalties that afflict us cannot be overcome without the conversion of the majority of the society. The solution would be for the majority of "mistongos" Catholics to become true Catholics.
These "backwardists" are not few in number. On October 8, no less than 1,000 men, on their knees in Plaza de Mayo, prayed to the Blessed Virgin with the recitation of the Rosary, asking for the conversion of the nation. Just a small example. This was the second time that this meeting of men was held in this place, in front of the seat of the national government. The fact that men are the ones summoned is significant in light of the gender perspective, but it is also an invitation to remember that in October 1934, within the framework of the International Eucharistic Congress, presided over by the then Cardinal Eugenio Pacelli as Pius XI's legate, a massive and unusual Communion of men took place. It was a historic milestone in a country where the baptized do not go to Mass; they did not go in 1934, and even fewer go now, especially men.
The reference made above to the Pauline discourse in the Areopagus of Athens can serve as an incitement, an inspiration, to elaborate the discourse that has to be addressed to the crowd of Stoics and Epicureans in today's Argentina. The Apostle based himself on the Unknown God. We can start from the God who is the source of all Reason and Justice, invoked by the authors of the National Constitution. The specifically Christian moment of the speech appears in the mention of the famous article 2, which invariably survived all the reforms: it is a historical fact that has not been reversed. The State "sustains" the Catholic, Apostolic, Roman Worship.
Lost as it is, Argentina preserves, albeit faintly, that historical memory: a dimension that cannot be erased. It should not be forgotten or shamefully hidden. Juan Bautista Alberti, the author of the Bases that have served as support to the Constitution, maintained that the State cannot "sustain" a cult that is not its own; that is to say, ours is, in spite of all regrets, a Catholic country. With these data that I have recalled, one may elaborate a theodicy to be proposed in the confused Areopagus of today's Argentina.
+ Héctor Aguer
Archbishop Emeritus of La Plata
November 12, 2022