Denver Catholic

14 JANUARY 24-30, 2015 | DENVER CATHOLIC Perspectives I n the wake of the horrifi c jihadist attack on the Paris-based journal Charlie Hebdo, the trope "satirical magazine" was regularly deployed to explain Charlie's character and content. But that's not-quite- right. And what's wrong about it—when linked to the sentiment expressed on placards reading "We are all Char- lie Hebdo"—suggests just how much trouble Europe is in, as it confronts this new form of war. To be sure, French standards of cartooning and "satire" are di" erent than those in other countries, as a brief glance at a Charlie Hebdo cover (and especially those dealing with the Cath- olic Church, its people, and its beliefs) would demonstrate. Still, I don't think it's a matter of American prissiness to suggest that "satire" doesn't capture the prevailing cast of mind displayed in Charlie Hebdo, which has always struck me as far more nihilistic than satirical. My venerable Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary defi nes "satire" as "a literary work holding up human vices and follies to ridicule or scorn," the secondary defi nition being "trenchant wit, irony, or sarcasm used to expose and discredit vice or folly." That is not what Charlie Hebdo does. Issue after issue, Charlie Hebdo mocks, not vice and folly (which are fair game), but many people's most deeply held and cherished beliefs, including their religious convic- tions. I won't describe its cover cartoon lampooning the doctrine of the Trinity after the Catholic bishops of France had opposed so-called "gay marriage;" if that cover was not pornographic, than the word "pornographic" has no meaning. In the world of Charlie Hebdo, sadly, all religious convictions (indeed all serious convictions about moral truth) are, by defi nition, fanaticism—and thus susceptible to the mockery of the "enlightened." But that crude caricature of religious belief and moral conviction is false; it's adolescent, if not downright childish; it inevitably lends itself to the kind of vulgarity that intends to wound, not amuse; and over the long haul, it's as corrosive of the foundations of a decent society as the demented rage of the jihadists who murdered members of Charlie Hebdo's sta" . The sophomoric nastiness regularly displayed in Charlie Hebdo most cer- tainly does not constitute any sort of warrant for homicide; the incapacity of some Muslims to live in pluralistic societies and the rage to which those incapacities lead is a grave threat to the West. The question is: what do those two truths have to do with each other? Here's my suggestion: You can't beat something with nothing—perhaps better, you can't beat something with nothingness. If all that Europe can say in con- demning the despicable murders of Charlie Hebdo's cartoonists and editors is "We are all Charlie Hebdo," then what Europe is saying is, in e" ect, "We are all nihilists." And how, pray, is nihilism— nothingness raised to a fi rst principle, skepticism taken to the last extreme— supposed to defeat conviction, however warped that conviction is? If all that Europe can say to murderous jihadism is "Why can't we all just get along?" its fecklessness will make it an even softer target for the kind of lethal fanaticism that recently turned Paris into a war zone. There's another aspect to this tangled and bloody business that's worth noting, and that is the high price that Europe, and France in particular, is paying for culturally engrained (and sometimes legally enforced) political correctness. Virtually proscribing public dis- cussion of the threat to European civility and order posed by Islamist maniacs has made dealing with that threat far more di' cult: for citizens, for the security services, and for the public authorities. In the years since 9/11, the French public square has been dominated by the jihadists and the xenophobes; and in that volatile social environment, something very bad was going to happen. Now that it has, perhaps steps can be taken to bring the adults—and the real issues—back into the discussion. "Liberty, equality, fraternity" can be a noble slogan, bespeaking noble aspira- tions. But freedom, justice and human solidarity cannot be grounded in nihil- ism. If all Europe is Charlie Hebdo, then Europe is doomed. Europe and nothingness George Weigel is a distinguished senior fellow of the Ethics and Public Policy Center in Washington, D.C. The Catholic Diž erence GEORGE WEIGEL P raying in front of Planned Par- enthood is one of the last places I ever thought I'd fi nd myself. But that's exactly where God invited me on a cold day last winter. It was prompted by my job. The Cath- olic apostolate where I worked at the time was supporting 40 Days for Life, and I was charged with enlisting volun- teers to sign up to pray during one-hour time slots on that particular day. I was not supportive of our organiza- tion getting behind this project. Don't get me wrong, I've always considered myself pro-life. But praying outside of an abortion clinic? It just felt so, uncom- fortable. Wouldn't my going there make me a participant in the divisiveness of the cause? How does that help? And after all, isn't prayer just as e" ective from my own home as it is in front of Planned Parenthood? I didn't know it then, but these ques- tions were tricks that Satan was using to get me to rationalize away God's beautiful invitation to have a profound encounter with him at the location of his choosing. I even went to my boss, and presented her with a thorough explanation as to why our organization could still be pro-life and not cham- pion this particular endeavor. I voiced to her that to invite our participants to pray at Planned Parenthood "might make some of the people we serve uncomfortable." Uncomfortable. Looking back, I now realize that the person I was most concerned about making uncomfortable was me. She told me that I didn't have to par- ticipate, but that our organization still would. Check that o" the list. Or so I thought. Even though I had received the out- come I wanted, I was left unsettled. It's hard to describe the way I felt—it was a disorder of sorts. On top of it, I was frus- trated and annoyed that I didn't have the tidy sense of closure I'd expected. I recognized the feeling: the one that comes when I don't prayerfully ask for God's help when he's inviting me to do something that stretches me. The feeling grew, so I decided to go. I wasn't happy about it, and I didn't want to. But I knew God wanted me to. Enter my dear friend Julia. I didn't ask her if she would go with me, I simply told her the situation and she said she'd be there. She's that friend. We met at Planned Parenthood early in the morning on that chilly day. Because 40 Days for Life has a peaceful mission, ours was a gentle, prayerful approach. We said the rosary together along with another woman who asked if she could join us. I have not been the same since. Looking into the faces of the employ- ees and the patients who drove right past us, God did something in my heart that completely altered my understand- ing of what pro-life really is. I'm not sure why it happened so intensely, but it did. No longer was "pro-life" a mere cause for me to subscribe to. It became a spiri- tuality by which to live—one that arises from the truth of the Gospel. Pro-life is not just a matter of my mind anymore. It is an orientation of my heart. Was I uncomfortable while I was there? At fi rst, yes. Pope Benedict XVI spoke of the essence of such times early in his papacy: "The ways of the Lord are not easy, but we were not created for an easy life, but for great things, for goodness." I need God's help to live this spir- ituality of life to encounter all of the goodness that Christ o" ers. Sometimes I fall. And when I do, he helps me back up. God o" ered me a sacred invitation to pray for the most innocent victims among us at a location that made me uncomfortable. Looking back, I'm fairly sure the invitation wasn't because of what I could do for the people for whom I was praying. I think God invited me there because of how much he knew it would do for me, so that I could better live the Gospel of life. Location, location, location Gina Warner, wife and mother of three, considers herself an everyday Catholic in the pew. View from the Pew GINA WARNER "Je Suis Charlie" is French for "I am Charlie." Photo by tommpouce/Flickr

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