I strongly felt in the winter of 2016 that it was right and wise to hold off on a replacement for Justice Antonin Scalia, who’d died in his sleep in February at 79. The court has taken on outsize importance in our lives, the kind of judges Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump would choose would be very different, let the people decide in the coming election. But there was another reason, and it had to do not with constitutional prerogatives or political calculus but with human sentiment and the respect it deserves. This was the Scalia seat. It had been held for 30 years by a man who was the gravitational center of conservative thinking on the court. He was one of nine but it wasn’t just any seat; for many Americans his presence on the court had an almost spiritual meaning. So let the people in on this one, more directly than usual. This will allow a more peaceful acceptance of outcomes.
Likewise in this case: Hold off, lower the temperature. It was Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s seat, held for 27 years by a liberal icon of the court. In a great and varied nation of 330 million people some tact is in order, some give, some deference to what is important to others. We won’t survive otherwise. The presidential election is in a matter of weeks. The kind of judge Donald Trump and Joe Biden would choose will be very different, we all know this. Let the people decide, and accept outcomes.
A Trump Republican might say, “The other side would never do that for us!” That is completely true. But someone’s got to think about the larger project, which is trying to keep the country together when a million forces are tearing it apart.
So we’re about to have—in the middle of a pandemic, an unprecedented economic emergency, a new and enduring wave of racial division, and a distinctively passionate presidential election featuring an incumbent who won’t even say he will accept the final result—a new layer of turmoil, the confirmation of a new Supreme Court justice.
And it will be ugly.
This column is published before the president announces his nominee. It is expected to be Judge Amy Coney Barrett of the Seventh U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. With this president you never quite know! Let’s assume it will be.
Her Democratic interrogators in Senate Judiciary Committee hearings will go forward with one intent: to kill. Barring accusations of high-school sexual assault and personal financial malfeasance, which don’t seem promising lines of attack, the committee will attempt to paint her as an extremist—not only a judicial one but also a religious one.
Judge Barrett is a Roman Catholic, like Joe Biden and Nancy Pelosi. Judge Barrett is also a member of a faith community called People of Praise, which is part of the Charismatic Renewal movement within the church that started in the 1970s, after Vatican II. The movement emphasizes personal conversion and bringing forward Christ’s teachings in the world. There are tens of millions of members throughout the world, and about 1,700 members of People of Praise in more than 20 cities in the U.S., Canada and the Caribbean. Judge Barrett is associated with the founding American chapter in South Bend, Ind.
People of Praise has been accused of being a right-wing sect. It answers that it has politically liberal and conservative members. They don’t appear to be obsessed with traditionalism or orthodoxy and are ecumenical: Members include Protestants as well as Catholics. They have joined together intentionally, in community, to pray together, perform service, and run schools. They’re Christians living in the world.
If they are right-wing religious extremists someone had better tell Pope Francis, who appointed a member of People of Praise’s South Bend community as auxilliary bishop of Portland, Ore. The pope has created a Vatican body to serve the renewal, and reminded the world-wide movement that its work must include service to the marginalized. Austen Ivereigh, author of an admired biography of Pope Francis and an essayist who writes with some asperity of conservative Catholicism, has written that although the Charismatic Renewal hasn’t been distinguished by its social commitments, “there are important exceptions to this story,” and People of Praise in South Bend is one.
They have been accused of encouraging the subjugation of women. Until 2018, women who were leaders in the organization were called “handmaids.” “Handmaid” is a reference to the Blessed Mother and the annunciation—she was “handmaid to the Lord.” After Margaret Atwood’s 1985 novel, “The Handmaids Tale,” became a TV series and a symbol for anti-Trump activism, the group dropped “handmaid,” saying “the meaning of this term has shifted dramatically in our culture in recent years.” I’ll say.
There have been charges that women in People of Praise are encouraged to be submissive. One former member said as much to Reuters. Yet as O. Carter Snead, a Notre Dame law professor and director of the de Nicola Center for Ethics and Culture, notes, Amy Barrett—herself a law professor as well as a judge—appears to be failing at being submissive and a total disaster at being subjugated. Mr. Snead said an interview that he thinks People of Praise draws scrutiny in part because of nomenclature and terminology: “Even the name, People of Praise, sounds to the secular ear either corny or sinister. If you wanted to imagine a group in a dark dystopian hellscape, People of Praise is the name you’d give!”
Joannah Clark, a local leader of People of Praise in Portland and the head of Trinity Academy, a People of Praise school, also appears to be failing at submissiveness. “I consider myself a strong, well-educated, happy, intelligent, free, independent woman,” she laughs. She has a doctorate from Georgetown. Trinity’s culture is “distinctly Christian” but “purposely ecumenical.” The emphasis is on reading, writing and Socratic inquiry. “Our three pillars are the humanities, modern math and science, and the arts—music, drama.”
Do they teach evolution? They do.
“We are normal people—there’s women who are nurses, doctors, teachers, scientists, stay-at-home moms” in the community. “We are in Christian community because we take our faith seriously. We are not weird and mysterious,” she laughs. “And we are not controlled by men.”
If Amy Coney Barrett is the nominee, People of Praise will come under discussion. Good. We can all understand each other better. Some bigotry against Catholics and Christians is unintentional, and all bigotry is a kind of fear. Senators can fairly ask Judge Barrett about the impact of her faith on her jurisprudence, as they have with previous nominees. When John F. Kennedy met with the Houston ministers who wanted to know the impact of his membership in the church on his ability to govern a varied constitutional nation, he had no trouble.
But Democrats shouldn’t overplay their hand. People of Praise isn’t a strange radical group, it’s ardent Catholics being Catholic, American Christians trying to be Christian. Questioning with a hostile, aggressive or accusatory inflection may please and excite those who are alienated by or unknowing of religious life in America. Will it please anyone else? It might more likely produce a Kavanaugh-like disaster for the Democrats, perhaps even for some of their media handmaids.