Earlier this week, The American Conservative published my essay “Woke Adoption” (I didn’t choose the title, but it fits), in which I relate some of what my wife and I have experience as adoptive/foster parents in Oregon. The opening paragraphs:
An Oregon widow recently filed a federal lawsuit against the state’s Department of Human Services (DHS) because officials won’t allow her to adopt children from the foster care system. Why won’t they let Jessica Bates adopt? Because she, as a practicing Christian, refuses to submit to gay and transgender ideologies.
Bates’s complaint is worth reading for anyone concerned about religious freedom. According to her complaint, Bates “initially progressed through the application process without any problems” until ideological insanity reared it ugly head.
DHS’s Foster Home Certification states that applicants “must … [r]espect, accept and support the race, ethnicity, cultural identities, national origin, immigration status, sexual orientation, gender identity, gender expression, disabilities, spiritual beliefs, and socioeconomic status, of a child or young adult in the care or custody of the Department.”
Bates says she will not support homosexuality or transgenderism, as they are contrary to her religious beliefs. Nor would she play the pronoun game or assist with a potential “transition.”
Alas, this is neither new nor surprising to those of us in Oregon who have gone through the foster care or adoption processes and dealt with DHS and related bureaucracies.
My wife and I are Catholic. Unable to conceive, we considered adoption. Between 2000 and 2010, my wife and I were involved in five adoptions in Oregon. Three were successful, and two imploded when birth parents changed course at the eleventh hour.
We learned that adoptive and foster parents are, for all intents and purposes, at the very bottom of the pecking order. They have little to no control. Everyone else—the birth parents, the state, the agencies, the experts, the judges—are running the show and calling the shots. And our interactions with DHS convinced me that the agency is deeply opposed to traditional understandings of sexuality, family, and morality.
And, over on the “What We Need Now” Substack, I have a longer essay titled “Ambiguity and Clarity in the Age of Synodality,” in which I discuss the recent released North American Final Document for the Continental Stage of the 2021–2024 Synod. I then hone in on the topic of “listening,” especially as it relates to doctrine, divine revelation, and Church authority.
An excerpt from the opening:
What is synodality? Can you provide a somewhat concise, fairly precise definition off the top of your head?
If not, don’t feel bad. After all, the implicit idea behind a “synod on synodality” is to learn what synodality is, how it works, why it is important, and so forth. Some might say that is paradoxical; others would say it is problematic. At the very least, definitions are still a bit difficult to come by, although this particular synodal process has been at it since 2021.
Take, for example, the recently released North American Final Document for the Continental Stage of the 2021–2024 Synod. This 39-page document, state Bishops Daniel E. Flores (USCCB) and Raymond Poisson (CCCB), marks “an important moment for the Church in the United States and Canada, strengthening our response to the request of the Holy Father Pope Francis to embrace synodality as the way forward for the Church in the modern world. This document is, among other things, a testament to the work of the Spirit within the communion of the baptized…
Surely such a momentous document will offer clear insight in synodality. The two bishops, in their introduction, admit they hoped for “a more robust participation” and state, “Synodality is an ongoing effort, and we must learn how better to encourage participation in the future.” Then, in the main text, we learn that “Synodality is not always easy to comprehend”; the word “messiness” is used. A sentence further in, a participant is quoted: “People don’t know what the Synod on Synodality is for” (#11).
But, a few pages later, we read, “There was a consensus that more formation in synodality is needed” (#31) and, “Synodality is a great source of hope for renewing and strengthening communion” (#32). A delegate insists: “We believe that the concept of synodality is a concept that must continue, that must become a way of life” (#32). The positive affirmations continue apace: “For the Church in North America, synodality is inseparable from becoming a Church sent forth on mission” (#35).
“This is a great process for us all to participate in,” the bishops say, and “there is still a need for the wider Church to understand what synodality is all about. … Synodality is the way forward, but it is not an easy way” (#43). And, further: “Synodality is an adventure and we aren’t very familiar with it” (#48). Many similar quotes could be given for the phrase “synodal process,” which appears 27 times, with the term “process” (a favorite term of synodal organizers, promoters, experts) used another 16 times.
The meaning of “synodality” is important for many reasons, not least that we’ve been living in a “synodal Church” since sometime in October 2015.
Read the entire essay. And consider subscribing to the Substack, which has also published essays by Archbishop Chaput, Fr. Thomas Weinandy, and Jayd Hendricks.
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