I like Luce
The Tuesday Pillar Post
Pillar subscribers can listen to JD read this Pillar Post here: The Pillar TL;DR
Hey everybody,
First things first.
I like Luce. I think she’s a fun piece of pop art with accessible symbolism, and I hope they retail a funko pop version of her so I can buy one for my kids. And if you’ve spent the last 24 hours posting online that Luce is a symbol of everything wrong with contemporary Catholicism, I think you should take a breath and chill out a little bit.
If you don’t know what I’m talking about, Luce is the cartoon mascot of the Church’s upcoming 2025 jubilee year, in which Catholics are invited to become pilgrims, receiving a “Jubilee indulgence” by going to confession, receiving the Eucharist, praying for the pope, and by making a pilgrimage — either to the basilicas of Rome, to the Holy Land, or the cathedral church of a local diocese.
Luce, unveiled by the Vatican Monday, is herself a pilgrim. That’s why she’s got a rain jacket on, and a pilgrim’s staff, and pilgrimage shells in her eyes, and mud on her boots. She’s rendered in a pop anime style, which is part of the reason why she became controversial online after the October 28 press conference at which Luce and her fellow anime pilgrims were unveiled.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think Luce is high art, and I’m not suggesting that she should be painted as a fresco inside some contemporary cathedral. I don’t think she’ll stand the test of time, or be revered by art historians centuries in the future, or even in decades.
But Luce introduces the concept of pilgrimage in an accessible way, as an invitation that can be universally understood to take up a cross and follow after the Lord. I don’t think she’s a sign of the Church’s capitulation to modernism or crass commercialism or anything like that: I think she’s an example of the Church speaking in intelligible and approachable signs and symbols to the world as it is.
And in that sense, I like Luce. As “event mascots” go, she’s certainly better than the usual drek served up by the Olympics, like Atlanta 96’s over-eager Izzy:
Or London 2012’s ominously surveillant Wenlock, who is surely a dystopian instantiation of the modern surveillance state:
Events have mascots, it’s a part of modern life. As mascots go, the Apostolic See could have done a lot worse than Luce, even if I would prefer that she was carrying that rosary instead of wearing it — especially because I have no idea how she’ll get it over her giant head, when it’s time to take the thing off:
The criticisms of Luce that I’ve seen are quite varied.
Some speculate about a kind of Illuminati-like conspiracy, noting that Luce’s name comes from the Latin word “lux,” as does “Lucificer,” and, well, you can work out the rest.
I suppose those critics forget about St. Lucy, who has been depicted as a bearer of light for centuries, without any serious concern of Masonic plotting.
Some see a continuity between Luce and the goofy fonts and terrible logos of the synod on synodality, and take them as being of a piece, part of a general infantilization of Catholic art and architecture. I’ll be the first to criticize those fonts and logos and designs — and I’ve done so now for several years. And I note that the actual logo for the jubilee year, chosen by a worldwide contest, is not very good graphic design, and — according to The Pillar’s research at the time, seems to have been designed by a Rome-based erotic masseur (seriously), which speaks to the Vatican’s perennial and serious problems with its art contracts and commissions.
But for my money, I think Luce is not bad art — she’s pop art, done in a pop style, but that doesn’t make her bad, and I’m not reflexively contrarian enough to reject her just because she didn’t come out of the studio of an Italian Renaissance master.
The criticisms of Luce I take most seriously are the ones which question the Vatican’s priorities — with the Apostolic See hemorrhaging cash, with the departments doing the hard work of ecclesial reform or processing sexual abuse cases chronically underfunded and understaffed, with major scandals going unresolved and with no accountability — the time and expense of creating an anime icon for the Jubilee Year seems, to some, disordered.
I’m sympathetic to that argument, which is why I work pretty damn hard to break those things to the light, for the sake of real ecclesial reform, which will only come by God’s extraordinary grace. In fact, I think the preparations for the Jubilee Year itself deserve a very close look, because they involve the expenditure of a lot of money, in Italian public-private partnerships, for a constellation of infrastructure and apostolic projects that are hard to track, and not carefully monitored by many people external to the project. That’s exactly the right environment for financial mismanagement, graft, or extortion, and we’ll be paying Pillar-like attention to accountability on those fronts.
But I also know that while we work for those reforms, the Church’s life continues, and we — I at least — have to guard against a kind of creeping cynicism, which prevents me from seeing anything good, because of the evil I do see.
And, for what it’s worth, I like Luce.
Readers, I understand the risk I’m taking here. I’m certain that my Luce-take might prove to be The Pillar’s Washington Post moment, in reverse.
I suspect a lot of our subscribers would like me not to “endorse” Luce at all. And yet I’ve done it, in a manner of speaking. And I’ll find it hilarious — though obviously concerning for my children’s material welfare — if my appreciation for this little anime figure leads to a Washington Post-like flood of canceled subscriptions, which came after the Post declined to endorse a candidate this week for president. (Not that hilarious. Really. My children need to eat, the mortgage insists on being paid, and there’s no safety net beyond our subscribers!)
I don’t think candidate endorsements are a great thing for newspapers, though my opinion on the Post’s decision is a bit more involved than that.
But I suppose I am fine with sharing my appreciation for jubilee mascots.
We’re with Luce. Or at least I am. Ed will probably eventually deliver the contrarian red meat you’re waiting for.
The news
The synod on synodality has ended.
Pope Francis on Saturday adapted formally a 28,000 word text from the synod on synodality, which calls for a greater emphasis on synodality — prayerful conversation and discernment ahead of decision-making — at every level of the Church.
The pope will not issue an apostolic exhortation, telling delegates that “what we have approved is sufficient.”
It was a funny way to end things, because the 28,000 word text calls for changes to canon law, and the creation of offices, and other concrete initiatives, which have to actually be taken up and put into motion by someone with executive authority — namely, the pope himself.
But rather than choose to receive those recommendations and then issue a text saying he’ll implement them, the pope instead formally promulgated a document — carrying his authority — calling on him to do things, which he may or may not do.
For my money, I do think we’ll see a papal encouragement for more robust consultative bodies at the national and continental level — and the pope might even formally establish the “continental assemblies” of synodality called for by the delegates. And all of those run the risk of becoming more layers of entrenched bureaucracy, costing money without any clear connection to the Church’s life, or worse — as has already happened in some parts of the world — seeing lay people make claims on authoritative decision-making, in contrast to the Church’s divinely instituted hierarchical constitution — and using the trappings and officialdom of these consultative bodies to do it.
But with the criticisms of synodality well-established, there is always a danger of missing some fundamental points that should be considered, which has been largely obscured by much of the synodal intrigue.
Baptism does bestow on every believer the calls of priesthood, prophecy, and regency. The Holy Spirit really does speak through prophets both inside and outside the Church’s hierarchy. And good decision-making is informed decision-making, which means that every person imbued with authority should be in the habit of listening to the people he leads.
In the United States, we tend to think we’re pretty good at that. Parishes have parish councils. The USCCB has the National Advisory Council. My pastor has to endure my regular and running commentary on the finer points of his liturgical ars celebrandi.
But when leaders get busy, and over-taxed, and discouraged, it can be easy to stop doing quite so much consultation — to either charge forward unilaterally, or to become sclerotic about decision-making at all. Healthy and frequent consultation obviates those tendencies — especially if the people being consulted have a healthy sense of their own baptismal dignity, and of the Church's divinely instituted structure.
If the synod on synodality is a reminder of that, well, that’s at least a lesson to take away.
But whether we’re in for more official and Vatican-mandated synodality remains to be seen.
The priests were kept in solitary confinement for months, moved from prison to prison, and at times subject to forms of psychological torture and physical abuse. Never during their time in captivity were they able to offer the Eucharistic liturgy.
In June, the priests were released — it is widely believed that diplomats from the Holy See played a pivotal role in securing their freedom.
They haven’t spoken much about their detention since then — both are undergoing both physical and psychological rehab.
But in an extensive interview with The Pillar, Fr. Bohdan Geleta spoke recently about what he experienced, and what it meant for him.
“Prison is an environment where a person comes to understand that time should not be wasted,” he told The Pillar.
“While I feel physically and psychologically broken, this time has strengthened my faith. The doubts I once had, not about God but about my vocation, have disappeared. I now know what I am going to do and how I am going to do it. I have clarity and purpose. My faith in my work here on earth has deepened.”
Olszewski is accused of illicitly receiving money from a government fund to support crime victims, in acts that might include money laundering. But Polish media argue that priest’s detention is political, and lawyers argue that he has been subjected to torture while in custody.
The government says those claims are “absurd.”
The case has gotten a lot of media attention in Poland, with supporters calling the priest a “prisoner of conscience” and a “political prisoner.”
Some Poles argue Olszewski’s detention is a mark of the Polish government’s commitment to holding perpetrators of corruption to account, regardless of their social standing.
Supporters of the priest, meanwhile, suggest the authorities were dragging Poland back to the communist era, when priests were routinely persecuted.
And the whole thing has taken on a political dimension.
—
The Archbishop of Atlanta asked Catholics last week to offer “prayers of reparation” in front of the Eucharist, especially during a “Black Mass” which took place in Atlanta Friday night.
The “Black Mass” was offered by the Satanic Temple of Atlanta, part of the international Satanic Temple, which claims some 700,000 members worldwide.
What happens at a Black Mass? The Pillar explains.
—
And here’s a much brighter liturgical story.
You’ve probably heard of “children’s Masses,” and had some idea of a homily at second grade level, and a sweet school choir singing saccharine hymns, probably in a church basement, and followed by sticky juice and cookies.
You’ve probably done everything you can to avoid the 4:00 pm Children’s Mass on Christmas Eve, at which pews are made sticky with fruit snacks, and decibel levels reach the range of airplane hangers.
But you might not know that “children’s Masses,” have a very long and fascinating history in the life of the Church, stretching back more than a century before Vatican Council II. And that their widespread popularity was probably very influential on the liturgical theologians who influenced Vatican II.
Children’s Masses, in short, are a lot more interesting than you probably realize.
And you can read about that here.
While it’s not getting much media attention, Ed and I have both said repeatedly this month that we believe the Principi case is the most important story about ecclesiastical governance in years.
This story raises very serious questions about how the Vatican handles serious cases of clerical abuse, and about the meaning of the rule of law in the Church at all.
In short, this story should matter to every Catholic who wants good governance — and justice — in the life of the Church.
And to make sure the facts are clear, Ed has written an excellent analysis about what we know, what we don’t know, and what makes this a serious issue for the Apostolic See.
You should read this, and retweet it, and pass it on, and raise the questions.
—
Readers, I have not yet voted, though early voting opened in Colorado several days ago. I have not yet carved pumpkins with my children, though the pumpkins have been sitting on the porch. So I’ve got a couple of things to get done today — and we’ve got a lot more news reporting coming your way.
But make sure you know this:
The Pillar Podcast will have a LIVE SHOW EXTRAVAGANZA in Washington, DC, on November 14th.
We will break down the fall meeting of the USCCB, and have a lot of fun, on November 14 at 7pm at the Royal Sands Social Club.
You are invited! BE THERE! Bring a friend. It will be awesome.
In the meantime, please be assured of our prayers, and please pray for us. We need it.
Happy Halloween. Consider going as Luce.
Yours in Christ,
JD Flynn
editor-in-chief
The Pillar
I love that the Pillar is unafraid to take a controversial stance.
FWIW, Mrs. Flynn told me this morning that Luce is weird.