EXCERPT:
Once again the Archdiocese of Boston is in the news due to an internal conflict. When a Boston parish scheduled an “All Are Welcome” Mass coinciding with the city’s gay pride events, some Catholics complained to the archdiocese--and the archdiocese ordered the Mass canceled. Now some are calling for the dismissal of the event organizer, or even the pastor himself, even while he receives extended media coverage and standing ovations in church.
Amid all the back-and-forth (“Pride is a sin” vs. “Jesus accepted every one”; “You are celebrating homosexuality” vs. “We cannot discriminate”), and buried beneath the headlines, was a statement by Terrence Donilon, official spokesman for the archdiocese. Tasked with handling press coverage of the controversy, he said: “The teachings of the Catholic Church are set in stone.”
Oh really?
To be fair, it is possible that Donilon slipped his tongue. Or he might have intended “Church teachings” to refer, very narrowly, to Church disapproval of homosexual acts. Or he may have had some (unspoken) other qualification in mind which makes his meaning less definitive than it sounded.
Still, his remark begs a reply, since my experience tells me that he speaks for millions. “Set in Stone” is in fact a commonplace perception of Church teachings among “conservative” Catholics, who thus find “liberals” out of line. It is fairly common among “liberals,” who complain about the Church’s rigidity. It is even common among non-Catholics, looking in from the outside.
This perception has many sources: a misunderstanding of the doctrine of papal infallibility; the memory of Catholic life in the early 20th century; the tendency of Church officials to use language that makes every pronouncement sound eternal. But while this “Set in Stone” perception has many roots, it is not rooted in the actual history of Church teachings. It is, in fact, a misperception—simply wrong.
For however much popes, bishops, and other officials present teachings as though they never have and never will change, the simple truth is that Church teachings do change.
Of course, some fundamental beliefs--the humanity and divinity of Jesus Christ, the triune God we call Trinity, the sacraments, the canon of the Bible, the obligation to love - -are pillars of our faith and essential to our Catholic identity. That is why we have creeds: to name the foundations of our Catholic tradition. We rightly believe that tradition has been built on rock, not sand.
But the vast majority of Catholic teachings, accumulated over 20-plus centuries, are not so foundational. In fact, our tradition is a living tradition precisely because, while built on a foundation of stone, its upper structure is an organic, changing body of beliefs and practices.
Examples of such change abound. Just pick an issue, and compare Church teachings from different historical periods. The 1998 book Rome Has Spoken supplies hundreds of examples.
…
The book title Rome Has Spoken is, of course, rather intentionally ironic. It translates the traditional Latin expression “Roma locuta est,” which always left an implied conclusion: Rome has spoken…Therefore the case is closed.
This is precisely the historic expression of the notion that Church teachings are “Set in Stone.” The irony, however, is that over the centuries Rome has spoken once, and then spoken again, and then spoken yet again, and sometimes spoken many more times on the same subject--each time proving that the case was not in fact closed, since even Rome often changed its mind.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
#331: Creating An Authentic Vatican II Parish
EXCERPT:
Earlier (CrossCurrents#307, “Keeping the Flame Alive”) I drew an analogy between Catholic history and American history. We Catholics have often failed to use the story of our Church’s rebirth to inspire younger generations born after the Council experience. Americans, by contrast, have been much better at using the story of our country’s birth to inspire generations born long after 1776. I propose we now push this analogy by examining how Americans keep the flame of our founding alive.
The first thing to realize is we commemorate our nation’s birth in three distinct modes. Some practices are permanent features of American life; others are annual events built into our calendars; still others we reserve for anniversary years, such as the US bicentennial in 1976.
Permanent Features.
…Why not make effective parish use of Popes John XXIII and Paul VI? Portraits, buildings, halls, gardens, and courtyards could bear their images and/or names. Souvenirs, mementos, awards could have similar images. And why not begin the habit of calling Blessed John XXIII “the Father of Renewal,” or even “The Father of Our Rebirth”? Why not recognize Paul VI as “The Pilgrim Pope,” since it was he who created the globe-trotting papacy that John-Paul II and Benedict XVI have emulated.
…
Why not do this in our churches? I began Catholic high school just weeks before Vatican II began, and every day we recited a prayer “For the Success of the Second Vatican Council.” Why not use such a prayer to end our Masses?—surely praying for the Council's success is still a timely plea.
The Council’s story can be mined for a rich store of slogans (“Open the Windows,” “People of God,” “War No More!”) images (St. Peter’s filled with bleachers, then with 2000 bishops, Paul VI at Yankee Stadium, or meeting with President Lyndon Johnson) and even heroes and villains (Bishop Lienart, Cardinal Ottaviani). Why not make these a permanent part of our parish life?
Finally, Americans have mastered the indoctrination of each generation. …Why haven’t we Catholics taught younger generations about the Church's transformation from a Euro-centric, imperial Church to a multi-cultural global Church? Certainly the Council’s preparations, four annual sessions, and aftermath offer plenty of dramatic scenes to learn and remember.
Annual events.
…Why not select key dates on the parish calendar to celebrate as annual events? Paul VI’s famous 1965 speech to the UN was on October 4, Vatican II began on October 11, 1962 (that same date is the official feast day of John XXIII). Why not establish a special annual event around those dates? The Mass of the Holy Spirit (traditionally celebrated to open the Jesuit school-year) might be a fitting choice.
We could also re-publish famous texts from these two men. (John’s speech opening Vatican II, and Paul’s UN address come to mind), and create an annual social event to commemorate the Council.
Why not a December ministry fair, to mark John XXIII’s call (closing the first session in December 1962) for a “vast effort of collaboration” to renew the Church? In springtime, why not a “new life” event to mark (1) John's spring 1963 death (putting the Council’s fate in limbo), (2) Paul’s election (giving the Council new lease on life), and (3) renewal itself, (bringing new life to the Church)?
Anniversary years.
I recall the U.S. Bicentennial in 1976…Why couldn’t our parishes devote 2012-2013 to the 50th anniversary of Vatican II? Imagine reenacting the Council opening, with school kids processing in decked out as bishops, periti, and observers. Imagine everyone lighting special candles symbolizing their baptismal commission as members of the People of God. Imagine hearing John XXIII’s opening speech, scolding the “doomsayers” who see only evil in the world, promising mercy rather than condemnation, calling for a rebirth to revitalize the Church.
Why not organize a model Vatican II …Evenings could present video documentaries about the Council, John XXIII, Paul VI, and history before and after--all designed to provoke fresh thought and lively discussion.
…A “Popes John and Paul” lecture series can be inaugurated, then become an annual event. A “Roncalli Guild” could be formed, dedicated to permanently preserving and promoting the parish’s memory of Vatican II. An award for outstanding parishioner could be named after one or both popes, to highlight the new role for laity proclaimed by the council. A Lenten series could present the council’s history, especially for those too young to remember.
…A spirituality program on conversion and renewal would clarify why renewal means more than reforms.
…Pentecost could be a special celebration organized, culminating the parish anniversary year by emphasizing how both Popes intended the Council as a “Second Pentecost” reshaping Catholic life and renewing the hearts of Catholics into the next millennium.
By now you get the idea: we Catholics could revive our identity as a Church renewed by Vatican II the same way we Americans maintain our identity as a people freed by revolution…
The result: a type of parish life that acknowledges in celebrates a new way to be Church--and earns that parish the label “A Vatican II Parish.”
Earlier (CrossCurrents#307, “Keeping the Flame Alive”) I drew an analogy between Catholic history and American history. We Catholics have often failed to use the story of our Church’s rebirth to inspire younger generations born after the Council experience. Americans, by contrast, have been much better at using the story of our country’s birth to inspire generations born long after 1776. I propose we now push this analogy by examining how Americans keep the flame of our founding alive.
The first thing to realize is we commemorate our nation’s birth in three distinct modes. Some practices are permanent features of American life; others are annual events built into our calendars; still others we reserve for anniversary years, such as the US bicentennial in 1976.
Permanent Features.
…Why not make effective parish use of Popes John XXIII and Paul VI? Portraits, buildings, halls, gardens, and courtyards could bear their images and/or names. Souvenirs, mementos, awards could have similar images. And why not begin the habit of calling Blessed John XXIII “the Father of Renewal,” or even “The Father of Our Rebirth”? Why not recognize Paul VI as “The Pilgrim Pope,” since it was he who created the globe-trotting papacy that John-Paul II and Benedict XVI have emulated.
…
Why not do this in our churches? I began Catholic high school just weeks before Vatican II began, and every day we recited a prayer “For the Success of the Second Vatican Council.” Why not use such a prayer to end our Masses?—surely praying for the Council's success is still a timely plea.
The Council’s story can be mined for a rich store of slogans (“Open the Windows,” “People of God,” “War No More!”) images (St. Peter’s filled with bleachers, then with 2000 bishops, Paul VI at Yankee Stadium, or meeting with President Lyndon Johnson) and even heroes and villains (Bishop Lienart, Cardinal Ottaviani). Why not make these a permanent part of our parish life?
Finally, Americans have mastered the indoctrination of each generation. …Why haven’t we Catholics taught younger generations about the Church's transformation from a Euro-centric, imperial Church to a multi-cultural global Church? Certainly the Council’s preparations, four annual sessions, and aftermath offer plenty of dramatic scenes to learn and remember.
Annual events.
…Why not select key dates on the parish calendar to celebrate as annual events? Paul VI’s famous 1965 speech to the UN was on October 4, Vatican II began on October 11, 1962 (that same date is the official feast day of John XXIII). Why not establish a special annual event around those dates? The Mass of the Holy Spirit (traditionally celebrated to open the Jesuit school-year) might be a fitting choice.
We could also re-publish famous texts from these two men. (John’s speech opening Vatican II, and Paul’s UN address come to mind), and create an annual social event to commemorate the Council.
Why not a December ministry fair, to mark John XXIII’s call (closing the first session in December 1962) for a “vast effort of collaboration” to renew the Church? In springtime, why not a “new life” event to mark (1) John's spring 1963 death (putting the Council’s fate in limbo), (2) Paul’s election (giving the Council new lease on life), and (3) renewal itself, (bringing new life to the Church)?
Anniversary years.
I recall the U.S. Bicentennial in 1976…Why couldn’t our parishes devote 2012-2013 to the 50th anniversary of Vatican II? Imagine reenacting the Council opening, with school kids processing in decked out as bishops, periti, and observers. Imagine everyone lighting special candles symbolizing their baptismal commission as members of the People of God. Imagine hearing John XXIII’s opening speech, scolding the “doomsayers” who see only evil in the world, promising mercy rather than condemnation, calling for a rebirth to revitalize the Church.
Why not organize a model Vatican II …Evenings could present video documentaries about the Council, John XXIII, Paul VI, and history before and after--all designed to provoke fresh thought and lively discussion.
…A “Popes John and Paul” lecture series can be inaugurated, then become an annual event. A “Roncalli Guild” could be formed, dedicated to permanently preserving and promoting the parish’s memory of Vatican II. An award for outstanding parishioner could be named after one or both popes, to highlight the new role for laity proclaimed by the council. A Lenten series could present the council’s history, especially for those too young to remember.
…A spirituality program on conversion and renewal would clarify why renewal means more than reforms.
…Pentecost could be a special celebration organized, culminating the parish anniversary year by emphasizing how both Popes intended the Council as a “Second Pentecost” reshaping Catholic life and renewing the hearts of Catholics into the next millennium.
By now you get the idea: we Catholics could revive our identity as a Church renewed by Vatican II the same way we Americans maintain our identity as a people freed by revolution…
The result: a type of parish life that acknowledges in celebrates a new way to be Church--and earns that parish the label “A Vatican II Parish.”
Thursday, June 2, 2011
#330: We Still Don't Know--Part II
EXCERPT:
The Impact of Mandatory Celibacy.:
Features and characteristics of the Catholic Church, such as an exclusively male priesthood and the commitment to celibate chastity, were invariant during the increase, peak, and decrease in abuse incidents, and thus are not causes of the “crisis.”
This statement ignores any link between “changing” social values and “invariant” celibacy. The 1970s and 1980s saw a simultaneous drop in the number of seminarians and a rise in priests leaving to marry. This suggests the obvious: in changing times, an “invariant” celibacy became increasingly difficult for young men to accept—it kept some men from joining and kept others from staying. Those who did remain found celibacy harder to sustain. How can the study ignore this clash between the secular culture and the Church’s culture? Absent this difficulty (e.g. If celibacy had been optional) fewer priests might have left--and fewer might have abused.
Many accused priests began abusing years after they were ordained, at times of increased job stress, social isolation, and decreased contact with peers. Generally, few structures such as psychological and professional counseling were readily available to assist them with the difficulties they experienced.
After 40 years working professionally with priests, I have no doubt about the high stresses of their work and lifestyle. For more than 30 years, I have called rectories “the loneliest places in the Church.” How can the authors of this study not connect priests’ isolation with celibacy? Diocesan priests are men who, unlike laity, give up family and, unlike religious, do not get community as an alternative. They are isolated by design, by the very culture of their priesthood. The study seems blind to that culture and its impact. Moreover, declining numbers have left priests even more isolated than before—many today are living in empty rectories.
Priests who lacked close social bonds, and those whose family spoke negatively or not at all about sex, were more likely to sexually abuse minors than those who had a history of close social bonds and positive discussions about sexual behavior. In general, priests from the ordination cohorts of the 1940s and 1950s showed evidence of difficulty with intimacy.
Again the report fails to grasp the impact of mandatory celibacy. My 40-years experience working with thousands of priests teaches me that the institution of celibacy was especially appealing to men who were (1) socially isolated, (2) afraid of intimacy, or (3) gay. All three groups found the culture of celibacy an attractive haven, a safe “closet” to hide in. This skewed the demographics of the entire priestly population, which has disproportionate numbers of isolated men, gay men, and men afraid of intimacy (especially intimacy with women). Over the years, many of these men have struck me as people who simply missed adolescence.
The Impact of Mandatory Celibacy.:
Features and characteristics of the Catholic Church, such as an exclusively male priesthood and the commitment to celibate chastity, were invariant during the increase, peak, and decrease in abuse incidents, and thus are not causes of the “crisis.”
This statement ignores any link between “changing” social values and “invariant” celibacy. The 1970s and 1980s saw a simultaneous drop in the number of seminarians and a rise in priests leaving to marry. This suggests the obvious: in changing times, an “invariant” celibacy became increasingly difficult for young men to accept—it kept some men from joining and kept others from staying. Those who did remain found celibacy harder to sustain. How can the study ignore this clash between the secular culture and the Church’s culture? Absent this difficulty (e.g. If celibacy had been optional) fewer priests might have left--and fewer might have abused.
Many accused priests began abusing years after they were ordained, at times of increased job stress, social isolation, and decreased contact with peers. Generally, few structures such as psychological and professional counseling were readily available to assist them with the difficulties they experienced.
After 40 years working professionally with priests, I have no doubt about the high stresses of their work and lifestyle. For more than 30 years, I have called rectories “the loneliest places in the Church.” How can the authors of this study not connect priests’ isolation with celibacy? Diocesan priests are men who, unlike laity, give up family and, unlike religious, do not get community as an alternative. They are isolated by design, by the very culture of their priesthood. The study seems blind to that culture and its impact. Moreover, declining numbers have left priests even more isolated than before—many today are living in empty rectories.
Priests who lacked close social bonds, and those whose family spoke negatively or not at all about sex, were more likely to sexually abuse minors than those who had a history of close social bonds and positive discussions about sexual behavior. In general, priests from the ordination cohorts of the 1940s and 1950s showed evidence of difficulty with intimacy.
Again the report fails to grasp the impact of mandatory celibacy. My 40-years experience working with thousands of priests teaches me that the institution of celibacy was especially appealing to men who were (1) socially isolated, (2) afraid of intimacy, or (3) gay. All three groups found the culture of celibacy an attractive haven, a safe “closet” to hide in. This skewed the demographics of the entire priestly population, which has disproportionate numbers of isolated men, gay men, and men afraid of intimacy (especially intimacy with women). Over the years, many of these men have struck me as people who simply missed adolescence.
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