The term realpolitik comes from the German, and suggests approaching politics from a place of pragmatism rather than ideology. It asks “What will it take to make things actually happen?” and not “How can we realize the purest version of what we believe is best for the world?”
Is there room in the Church for realkirche (my own term, coined for this blog)? Should the Church approach its mission from a place of pragmatism rather than theological purity? Should the Church ask “What will it take to make things actually happen?” and not “How can we realize the purest version of what we believe is best for the world?”
One of today’s saints, Patiens, actually seems to have been an ancient master of realkirche and is known for accomplishing two things that appear, at first glance, to be at cross purposes:
- Patiens, as an archbishop, raised a TON of money and used vast funds “to build a great number of rich and stately churches [and] to repair, adorn, and embellish many old ones”; AND
- Patiens, as an archbishop, raised a TON of money and used vast funds “to feed the poor in the greatest part of the towns of Gaul”!
Butler writes that those who exalted Patiens “knew not which to admire and praise more in him, his zeal for the divine honour or his charity for the poor.”
Notice how deftly the equation of “zeal for the divine honour” is identified with building “a great number of rich and stately churches”! Now this, my friends, is a quintessential example of what I am calling realkirche. You want money? Well then you need to get it from people with money. Will these rich people want to worship in a mud hut without windows? Theologically, it should make no difference whatsoever. Pragmatically, rich people often want to take pride in and want to worship in beautiful buildings (think of the brass plates of donors for stained windows, pews, etc.).
But you can’t just go out and say, “Let’s call ourselves ‘Christians’ and raise money to build facilities for rich people to enjoy!” Such a bald proclamation would make even a number of these rich people feel (at least somewhat) uncomfortable. So, instead, let’s say that “We need to honor God by building the most magnificent buildings possible, to show our love of God!!” Not only will rich people make their contributions, but poor people will likewise offer their pennies–and their sweat equity as well! And everyone will feel that their constructions are righteous offerings to God!
Yet note: Patiens had a larger vision–he wanted to see poor people fed throughout the entire area where he was archbishop! And he went to these same rich people in their pretty churches and provided them an opportunity to put money into the collection plate being passed around in their beautiful buildings and then converted those funds into food! This made people inside the church buildings feel that they were carrying on the work of Jesus (even if not done as Jesus himself did)–plus they did not have to go out and mix personally with the peasantry.
What good would have come from haranguing the rich? Patiens approached this question pragmatically and came up with the answer that nothing good would result, and that it might well endanger his program for feeding the poor. One might argue: “Patiens, where is your faith?” And Patiens would likely reply “being lived out in feeding the poor.” If the “price” for feeding the poor is that the rich get pretty buildings and it’s possible to do both, then so be it!
For me, the danger occurs when one starts to confuse pragmatic prattle with theological purity! C’mon–God is not “honored” by big pretty buildings! God is not more honored by the Catedral de Notre Dame than by logs pulled up around a campfire. What kind of God (worth worshipping) cares about such distinctions?!
To be clear: Jesus was not into realkirche. Jesus was not a church-goer, let alone a church-builder. Jesus was not even a Christian! He didn’t make rich people and religious leaders and Roman officials happy.
How much does this matter?!
Thoughts?!