By Bishop James Conley

To say that we are living in interesting times right now, would be a vast understatement. We all know how the COVID-19 pandemic has changed our lives dramatically. In addition, we are experiencing cultural change including growing political divisions and the continued secularization of our society.

But even if we live in these shifting and unstable times, I wouldn’t say that we live in unprecedented times, which is a description that is often used to describe our current cultural climate. In reality, these are not unprecedented times. If we look at the history of the Church, the world, and of civilization, we see similar happenings to what is taking place right now.

Throughout history, there has been a plethora of plagues at various times and places. The world has seen all its fair share of political upheaval and unrest, and some people in our world even today see this on an almost daily basis. Given our fallen human nature, division among peoples is sadly, the rule, and not the exception. As we hear in the Book of Ecclesiastes, “Nothing is new under the sun” (Eccl. 1:9).

The truth is that we tend to get used to tranquil times, and so when faced with great challenges and obstacles, we can easily become disillusioned, confused, and uncertain. The world appears chaotic, and our lifestyles are turned on their head. Maybe we are feeling that way right now.

But, we tend to think that this is the first time these things have ever happened. That’s simply not true.

St. John Henry Newman writing as an Anglican in 1837 said in his famous work, The Via Media, “But in truth the whole course of Christianity from the first, when we come to examine it, is but one series of troubles and disorders. Every century is like every other, and to those who live in it seems worse than all times before it. The Church is ever ailing, and lingers on in weakness… God alone knows the day and the hour when that will at length be, which He is ever threatening; meanwhile, thus much of comfort do we gain from what has been hitherto,—not to despond, not to be dismayed, not to be anxious, at the troubles which encompass us. They have ever been; they ever shall be; they are our portion.”

We were made for these times. In his providential plan, God placed us on this earth for these times.

Interestingly enough, towards the end of his life, Newman went back and looked at the words that he wrote as an Anglican. He didn’t change those aforementioned words. He believed in those words at the end of his life as a Catholic, as much as he did when he first said them as an Anglican. He knew that troubles and difficulties will also be a part of the life of the Church.

In many ways, Newman is a prophet because he is someone who speaks the truth in an age when it was hard to hear clear voices. Today, it’s hard to find the truth and to know the truth. There are many reasons for this. There is a general lack of trust among people. People don’t trust the media, politicians, and many of our institutions.

The pandemic itself has contributed to this distrust. Over the past year, in trying to figure out the virus and how to deal with it, scientists, medical doctors, epidemiologists, and virologists have voiced differing opinions. When the “experts” are in disagreement, who are we to believe and what are we to do? This reality, too, has sometimes caused even more confusion and distrust.

I have the privilege of being the episcopal advisor to the Catholic Medical Association. In recent years, membership in the CMA has grown, and it’s growing among young people in the health care profession. I find this encouraging that young people want to be involved in this organization that promotes the principles of the Catholic Faith in the science and practice of medicine.

Nevertheless, the reason that many young doctors join the CMA is because they are being challenged. They are being asked to take part in immoral medical practices, and they are looking for support as they refuse such practices.

There is growing worry that the freedom of conscience, the freedom to practice one’s faith, and many of the freedoms embedded deeply in the constitution are under attack. There are many ideologues in our country who tacitly tolerate a “right to worship” but reject the right to practice one’s faith fully, including the right to refuse practices that violate one’s conscience.

We must firmly fight against what Pope Benedict XVI shrewdly and accurately described in 2005 as the “dictatorship of relativism.” Relativism is the philosophy that holds there is no absolute or objective truth.

In our culture today, relativism is a kind of dictatorship because it has become the default position, and it demands our total allegiance. If you sway from its orthodoxy, you run the risk of being called out publicly as a bigot, or as a hateful person. For example, try to publicly state your belief that marriage is only between a man and a woman, and you will feel the tentacles of the dictatorship of relativism.

As Catholics, we know where the ultimate truth is to be found: in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Thus, the Gospel is like a compass as we travel through these confusing times.

We must never forget that we can come to know the truth and that the Lord helps us in this pursuit. He has not abandoned us. We recall that God speaks to us in our prayer through the intercession of the Holy Spirit. We can rely on the truth of the Spirit, but we have to listen to the truth of the Spirit. Perhaps during this holy season of Lent we can make a point to listen to the Spirit with frequency and attention, more than we listen to the cacophony of voices in the ambient culture.

We certainly live in interesting and challenging times, but this should not frighten us. St. Augustine once remarked, “Bad times, hard times, this is what people keep saying; but let us live well, and times shall be good. We are the times: Such as we are, such are the times.”

If we wish to have calm, tranquility, and serenity in our lives, we don’t look to the world for this. We turn to the truth of the Gospel. There is no reason to be afraid because we were made for these times.