by Matthew Chominski
It seems that as this is the first printed edition of The Publican of Philadelphia an addressing of the purpose of the publication is in order. And not only its purpose but its history, short as it may be, its focus, as wide and unfocused as it may be, and its inspirations and sources, as varied as they may be.
To date, there have been five online editions of The Publican. And while an internet presence is certainly imperative, the printed page has certain almost indescribable qualities that cannot be matched, even if mimicked by the computer, Kindle and the like. So the jump off the elusive internet and onto paper has been made, which in its own small way contributes to one of the publication’s goals: promoting a more human scale of things.
History
Surrounding the founding of The Publican were the cultural and political events and environs of last fall. This environment also served as a soil for the initial growth of The Publican. Witnessing a certain demagogic abuse of language, image and slogan included, it seemed to me and not a few others that an articulation of principle was in order. And in order for this articulation to occur, a more sober, or at least more sustained, deep, and wide discourse was and is necessary. The pseudo-religious fervor permeating the election cycle of last fall was disturbing for more than a few reasons, however, the near-blind acceptance of verbal niceties by so many of the polity, without sustained discrimination and inquiry, stands out on the short list of disturbing qualities of the time. I do not doubt that certain unsavory aspects of last year’s presidential race are an almost universal part of political jockeying throughout the ages. But it was the scale, place and manner in which the drama unfolded, not to mention the way my own subjective and admittedly young memory encountered that drama, which caused disturbance.
Such an experience led me to believe that some small contribution could be made in the realm of the local Catholic culture, and thereby the culture at large; a contribution that may counter some of the corrosive qualities now so symptomatic of our time and place. Perhaps the following questions could be continually considered by The Publican: How does the wealth of beauty in art, literature and philosophy born of the womb of the Church come to bear on our time, in our place? And as the political tremors of last year diminish in force, what symptoms that were made manifest then and those now being noticed can be addressed by the Catholic experience of reality? And how can this address be made in a good and proper fashion?
Fortunately one far humbler, and therefore far greater, than I has recognized such a challenge and its accompanying opportunity. During his apostolic visit to our country Pope Benedict stated:
Onward
Over the ensuing months the shape of The Publican has been formed, in part, by both principle and pragmatism. Knowing I had neither time nor talent to build a nationally distributed publication coincided rather
well with my conviction that
greater efforts are needed to
foster a sense of place and
rootedness to one’s location
and heritage. As a result
The Publican of Philadelphia,
as its name suggests, is intended
to be rooted into the greater
Philadelphia area, the city
and its surrounding counties.
Not that the city is itself the
source of the worth of its
surrounding suburbs, it may be
more true to say the opposite, but Philadelphia is a location shared commonly by those residing in Delaware, Chester, Montgomery, and Bucks counties. It is these regions: the local county, countryside, and city that are the principal focus of this endeavor.
Along similar lines, not only do I desire The Publican to contribute to a greater sense of place due to its intended readership but just as much by those whom the readers will be reading. In other words: the intention of this publication is to draw greatly from local authors. There seems to be no lack of intelligent, articulate and passionate individuals and groups in the greater Philadelphia area, to tap into such wealth in the manner envisioned by The Publican would not only fulfill the aims of this little work but also benefit the Catholic scene in the area as well. Such local authors will be able to write and contribute themselves while at the same time hopefully entering into a deeper and broader conversation within the community, a conversation that may purify and develop the common discourse as well as possibly providing substantial benefits to the region.
The scope of such a discourse is limited only by the limits of reality. As far as The Publican goes, what wonders of the wide ranging human experience could be focused on: from beer and wine to Wilde and Belloc! How beneficial could be discussion of things and people such as Cardinal Newman and Mr. Chesterton; leaping from the wonderful life of insects to the wonders of everyday existence: breathing, seeing, touching, etc. And there is certainly no lack of –isms vying for our attention, adoption and criticism: localism, Distributism, agrarianism, conservatism, liberalism, capitalism, personalism, etc.
The great wealth of literature that remains far too untouched and un-thought of is in great need of attention as well. Thankfully, in this present edition we have a contribution focusing on Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset. If this publication had to focus on only a limited number of topics, literature, and all that the word entails, would be one of them.
Another one of those limited few would be subsidiarity; the principle where ‘approaching problems related to power or the purse starts at the lowest level possible. When a problem can’t be handled by means of its own resources, only then should the neighborhood, town, or city call for help from a more centralized authority. This authority would be restricted in what it could do according to law’ (Gilbert Magazine, Sept. 2009, 45). There is great need for attention to be given to this principle; hopefully this need can be met, to a degree, by The Publican.
A further purpose of The Publican is to aid in the recognition of the magic of creation, the sacramentality of the cosmos. I hope we can contribute to, again in our own small way, a reawakening to a sense of the sacred; that which we long for and cannot truly live without. As Roger Scruton writes:
It would be a fulfillment of my desire if The Publican were to hang in the tensions of the modern age, opposed to succumbing to the simplistic draw of ideology and refusing to surrender to modern erroneous euphemism and popular stereotype. While all authors found in these pages may not appear to be in total congruence, what I hope is found is a common desire to experience, and to be at the service of the good, true, and beautiful.
Beauty and Benedict
In our own little way I hope that the writers and readers of The Publican may access the beautiful, to in a sense come, ‘face to face with beauty, or at least a ray of it’ (Ratzinger, On The Way to Jesus Christ, 38). As the Holy Father has written:
Though not eliminating the place for argument and deductive reasoning, the beautiful can sometimes be an ally to truth in ways that argumentation cannot. Again, Ratzinger:
The Parable and the Name
From the Gospel of Luke: ‘He [Jesus] also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and despised
others; “Two men went up into the temple
to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a
tax collector (a publican). The Pharisee
stood and prayed thus with himself,
‘God I thank you that I am not like the
other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers,
or even like this tax collector…’ But the
tax collector, standing far off, would not
even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat
his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to
me a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went
down to his house justified rather than
the other; for every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.”’
The publican’s humility and prayerful presentation of reality in conversation with the good God are what I hope will be pursued and emulated by The Publican.
Child of the Autumn
In a real sense The Publican is a child of the autumn. And as such, it draws certain important guidance from the atmosphere it is steeped in as to how it ought to exist. The initial ruminations over this possible publication began in the autumn of 2008 and now in the same season of 2009 the first printed issue has come to be. To my mind this is more than chance at work.
It seems that some sensibilities garnered, in part, from the season of autumn ought to be characteristic and move through the pages of The Publican:
The autumn seems to be perennially ancient and vibrant, alive and old, and although he occupies his rough quadrant of the year it is almost as if he is never too far removed from any of his three companions. The summer unfolds unto him while the winter’s emptiness exists in a chilled silence absent of autumn’s glory and song. The sprouting spring appears as the promised restoration of the fall’s loss.
Among the many movements of this time the passage of the tree stands out most starkly. In the fall there is a sense that this is what a tree is made for. Yes, of course the nesting birds of the spring and the climbing children of the summer benefit from the tree being what she is, but neither bird nor child seem to be her via gloriosa, her way to glory.
In the fall the tree’s hidden glory bursts forth, over time, in unison with the others, but still in playful competition and complement; here the trees instruct us and vie for our attention. It is almost as if their Master (ours as well of course) were leaving us mementoes of the time He was here, showing us, ‘this is how you must be, you must give yourself in this way that to others may seem reckless.’ The tree’s glory is her passion, and does not the first hint of the change of her hue remind her that yes, this is going to be beautiful, but, it is now the time to spend myself unto passage. And the tree empty of leaves is not due so much to a slow dissipation but the making of a glorious gift so vibrant that the giver is forced onward. It is certainly a loss, but a glorious loss… ‘whoever loses his life will save it.’ Amidst the varying shades of the fall are these senses of loss and glory, tragedy and anticipation.
And then the winter. Chilled arboreal monuments remain of the tree’s splendor, monoliths of remembrance possessing a certain dignity tinged with this sense of loss. The evergreens stand as the remnant, sentinels standing vigil over those others who now sleep until spring…until that time when the wound of the loss is treated with balm and the sleepers awake unto a new life of abundance.
The fall instructs, most effectively, by example, here he says, ‘yes, things pass on; they are tragic, they are glorious; some things are lost and monuments are left, but this is how you are and must be.’ The autumn seems to hold in his existence an expression of creation’s condition: glory and tragedy accompanied by the tangible ache of loss and the hope that after a somehow known but unknowable time there will be a restoration.
And so in the West we seem to be in a long autumn, perhaps already having entered a longer winter (it is never easy to tell), being moved and prepared to stoutheartedly await a spring when all things are made new.
To stand vigil in this way is certainly part of the purpose of The Publican.