Before another May rolls around, it might well be to enlarge the War on Poverty and Ignorance to include a crusade on the oratory of the commencement address, the convention speech and the assorted remarks from those “who so graciously condescend to take time from a busy schedule to be with us today.” There should be an open season -- (1) on the covey of well chosen clichés and clinkers of the past; (2) on the passing flight of dead ducks posing as live ones; (3) on the repeated litanies of “distinguished speakers”, “their lovely ladies”, and the peculiarly Catholic flock of “most, right, very, and potential monsignor.” (One monsignor is always an American, but when two gather they oddly appear in the Italian version.) Most of us lucky enough to occupy a pulpit or podium are spared the rigors of dialogue, and so we become more cliché-prone than others. The guilt is almost universal.

The dry riverbeds of the pulpit are bad enough; those of the podium are worse. In Church you can always get in a few prayers, but during many public addresses, who feels like praying? I offer the possibilities of this “Open Season” to my fellow speakers, but I write with a keen sympathy for my fellow-listeners too. Examples are from talks heard, including my own:

(A) Cliché-And-Clinker Department

“You graduates are not ending the process of your education; you are only beginning it.”

“I would be remiss if I did not express my tribute to the famed hospitality of this gracious City of Atlanta.”

“Science can tell us how to go, but it cannot tell us where to go.”

“We can’t get ahead without team-work. The bee is tiny, but when he’s one of a swarm, he can say, ‘I’m organized.’”

All jokes over two minutes in the telling, and especially those the speaker says happened to him on his way to the event.

(B) Dead-Duck Section

These specimens differ because they seem to be lively, apropos and modern. In their heyday, words like “aggiornamento”, “dialogue” and “involvement” sparkled. The words are still good, but they’ve become just plain tired-out old ducks. In contemporary usage, they could be defined something like this: “Aggiornamento”: Anything that has happened in the Church since October 1962, when the Council opened. This would include, far beyond Pope John’s meaning, a lot of sloppy thinking and a substitution of novelty for renovation. Laymen quote individual bishops and theologians as adequate moral judges in conscience. A priest calls a press conference to explain to everybody why he no longer can keep the promise of obedience made to his bishop. “Aggiornamento” is not easy to understand or spell, but a good start would be to read the authentic updating spelled out in the Council decrees.

“Dialogue”: Any pleasantry that is exchanged by two persons of unlike views after the opening. “Hello, there!” The home-kit for real dialogue is not the needles and thread for a “look-alike” dress pattern. It must have some thinking and praying tools, and the raw materials of mutual respect and love. Ecumenism is not cutting off corners and rough edges until everything fits. It is to reform ourselves first in the image of Christ so that all can see Our Lord in the Church He founded; it is to study other faiths and discuss with others the areas of agreement, and charitably, the areas of disagreement. In God’s providence, the steps to unity are sure; to us they are difficult and arduous, but urgently necessary.

“Involvement”: It once meant the essence of the Beatitudes and the Works of Mercy, the exercise of virtue of Charity. It is one means (along with prayer, hard work, obedience and dedication) to an end -- that God’s Will be done on Earth that it is in Heaven. Not all the “involvers” have got the message. Most of those who demonstrated recently were strongly and wisely motivated. But some obscure the Church’s “presence” at this extraordinary moment by an overlay of personal contempt, a failure to work daily for those, like the Negro, who are in grave need with a trail of “I was at Selma” quotes and notes, they seem to0 involved with involvement. (C) The Litany (19th Century Style)

Would not these rules shorten and enliven our programs?

(1) Only the first speaker should use any formal salutation. Can we not presume that none of the celebrities have left the stage for the 2nd, 3rd and other speakers?

(2) At a Catholic gathering, would it not suffice to open simply with “My dear friends in Christ,” or “My dear friends,” or “Ladies and Gentlemen.” If there are any doubts, enumerate “Archbishop, Father, Sisters, Laity and our guests.” If the program is running late, don’t salute anyone. Just start, and be sure to stop.

Obviously these are personal opinions, and letters from the Society for the Preservation of 19th Century Oratory will receive proper treatment. Most of the capital crimes named above are not sinful; they are just tiresome. On the other hand, a good unexpected faux-pas. (English: booboo) is healthy for the speaker and audience.

The tension, for example, was relieved recently when I was speaking of vocations. “We need,” I said, “the right citizens, the right parents, the right priests, the right sisters -- and the right brothers!” Out of the roar, I heard one young voice, possibly from Kitty Hawk, North Carolina:

“You just got flyin’ too high that time!”

Paul J. Hallinan

Archbishop of Atlanta