All things to all men: Pope Francis on the Gypsies, but what of the Gypsy Church?

By Dr. Jeff Mirus ( bio - articles - email ) | Nov 02, 2015

The news a few days ago that Pope Francis had come under attack by Gypsy activists is in some way humorous. While the Pope has been a strong supporter of the rights of Gypsies, he said in an audience in October 26th that they themselves could help repair their public image if they are “good Christians”, avoiding “lies, frauds, swindles, [and] altercations.” But activists accused the Pope of blaming the victim!

In the Pope’s defense, we could all improve our public image by avoiding lies, frauds, swindles and altercations. Surely this is particularly important for groups of people who are, justly or unjustly identified with such practices. The Pope’s remarks do not appear to me to make any universal judgment. But then activists in any cause tend to be hyper-sensitive to the point of absurdity.

Perhaps myself included: As it turns out, I am something of an activist in resistance to public education. I see that Pope Francis also urged Gypsy parents to allow their children to go to school, rather than resisting public education. Of course, context is everything, and it is certainly true that lack of education hampers Gypsies in their efforts to overcome poverty and to play a constructive role in the larger social order. But one does wonder whether, in this case, the cure will be worse than the disease.

I have no doubt that much of the Gypsy opposition to regular schooling arises from a nomadic way of life and a desire to maintain their own social traditions. But as a Catholic, I would be hard-pressed to allow my own children to be educated in public schools, because those schools will continually undermine both faith in God and the Christian understanding of a moral life. This raises a real question: Is turning one’s children over to the public schools really preferable to not educating them in a consistent academic way at all?

A Teaching Moment

There is no easy answer to this question. Too many moral and spiritual factors are unknown, and too many vary from child to child. Certainly many good Christian families, unable to afford private education for their children, have sent them to the public schools without losing their souls. All I can say is that I would not do it under any circumstances. In the absence of any alternative, I would home-school—and that is not because I regard home-schooling as a universal ideal. I am confident that there are many perfectly valid ways to educate one’s children. But entrusting them essentially to pagans for this purpose is a desperate decision indeed.

Of course, I am neither poor nor undereducated myself; I have options that Gypsies (and many others) do not have. It would be far too facile a judgment to condemn public education in cases where the only other choice is no education at all. But is it too facile to condemn ourselves for not taking the problem seriously enough to provide workable solutions on a broader scale?

The obvious point—as with nearly any secular problem one can name—is that Catholics need to do it themselves. It is in the nature of the Christian Faith to produce a Christian culture, and education is one of the great keys to the transmission of culture. The Church herself ought to be committed to supplying this need. The Church ought not to take for granted that it is acceptable to leave anyone to a public education.

Where are the hedge schools for those who cannot support an entire educational complex? Where are the programs similar to English as a Second Language—call them “Christianity as a First Language”—which should be operating in every community with a reasonably robust Catholic presence? Where indeed are the itinerant teachers, called to a life of educational service on the road?

Our age cries out for concrete Catholic solutions to the distortions created by modern secular values. Secular education is the purveyor of these values, and secular education depends firmly on the myth that immense resources are the determinants of success. Only when we break the stranglehold of that falsehood will the world begin to change. The alternative, then, and very nearly the first priority, is the provision to all who will accept it of a competent education—or at least a competent corrective—in the light of Christ.

This will require a Church that is light on her feet, a Church which can be present anywhere almost instantly. Such a development may be reminiscent of the early mendicant orders, but I grant that its modern shape is neither perfectly clear nor easy to describe.

But does’t the word “Gypsy” come to mind?