Mackey's Parting Shot...

I've been following the series of five weekly articles in the Irish Times by Professor James Mackey with a certain grim fascination. For a man who once had a reputation as one of the brightest theologians in the Irish Church, it's disturbing to see him slide into a sort of populist anti-clericalism. In today's article he writes:

[I] initially at least, the largest grouping of Catholics is likely to consist of those who remain unconvinced that any substantial reform is necessary; nothing more than a clearance of maverick clerical and religious abusers and dealing with other incidental occurrences of that regrettable ilk.
The welcome and willing leader of this grouping is the current pope, a mere mortal man convinced of his supreme infallible power to dictate what we, all “children of our holy father”, are to believe and practise in life liturgical and moral.

Seriously? That's meant to be the writing of a theology professor... one who, I understand, still claims to be Catholic?
And he goes on to say:

And there will always be a majority who prefer a judgmental God for whom punishment is the primary instrument of love (as the Archbishop of Dublin would put it) to the father of the prophet Jesus. Particularly as this majority sees itself as so especially God’s people, and he their special God, that they have privileged access to the sacramental means for escaping punishment both here and hereafter.

What can one say about about such a crude representation of the doctrine of the atonement? And does he really think that such an idea is held by a majority of practising Catholics?
It seems to me that Professor Mackey has moved from a hatred of the clergy to a contempt for ordinary Catholics.

So, what are Professor Mackey's recommendations for those who want to follow Christ? He concludes on an unlikely note:

There are yet other options for disenfranchised Catholics: decamping to other religions or to none at all; and many take this option.
It is a reasonable option, particularly in the case of Christianity’s two sibling religions, Judaism and Islam.
For Jesus was a prophet in and for Judaism and Muhammad received him as a prophet on a par with himself; and it can be seen and shown that both of these sibling religions retain some features more faithful to the faith of Jesus than are their current Roman Catholic counterparts.
The same can be true in varying degrees for other world religions, and primal religions, and for the personal spiritualities of people disenchanted with organised religion as such. For God has left no one ever without evidence of the utterly gracious and eternal presence; as the Masai woman introduced in earlier instalments quite amply illustrates.

One has to wonder what a 'liberal-minded' critic of the Church and an advocate of women priests is up to when he includes conversion to Islam as a favourable option for those seeking a certain sort of reform within the Church.

A Reason to Read the Irish Times

John Waters writes about the Rimini meeting of Communion & Liberation:

The other day, for example, I went for a second time to experience an exhibition on the life and work of the Irish-American writer Flannery O’Connor. Now there’s “conservatism” for you: a Catholic novelist whose characters seem to have been conceived at the very precipice of human possibility: strange, dark misfits torn between grace and meaninglessness, awaiting that moment of exceptionality when a choice will throw itself before them. Flannery O’Connor once said that if she had not been a Catholic, she would have had “no reason to write, no reason to see, no reason ever to feel horrified or even to enjoy anything”.
Is it possible for those of us who live in the nominally Catholic land from which her ancestors once hastened to gain any insight into such a judgment?

It never fails to astound me how hostile the reader comments are when John Waters dares to say something positive about his faith. Probably the most amusing hostile comment is from a 'Roger Quinlan' who suggests that Flannery O'Connor should widen her horizons. Given that she passed from this life in 1964, I would imagine that her horizons are, God willing, infinitely broad.

My Reservations about Irish Journalism

The Archbishop and the Serious Catholic Press
In his recent address in Rimini, Archbishop Diarmuid Martin of Dublin noted that there is no 'serious Catholic press' in Ireland. I'm not sure that my friends at the 'Irish Catholic' newspaper would quite agree with him, but I think that the substance of Martin's remarks is generally accurate. The Irish Catholic makes a valuable contribution to the life of the Church in Ireland and is certainly a serious newspaper. But, in a broader sense, we don't have a 'serious Catholic press' because outside of the niche which that publication occupies, there is no serious newspaper which approaches the news of the day with a Catholic outlook. One weekly publication - no matter how good - does not constitute a serious Catholic press in a predominantly Catholic country. Likewise, I don't think that any of the religion correspondents who report in the Irish dailies are particularly well-informed or sympathetic. There are some columnists, of course, whose work is worth following, but believing Catholics with a basic sense of loyalty to the Church will find few friends in the Irish media.

Get Religion?
I recently came across the American GetReligion website. Based on the premise that the media 'doesn't get religion', it examines religious reportage and showing precisely how - through either spin or ignorance - much of what is published is inaccurate or misleading. If I didn't have the care of my parishioners and my own sanity on my conscience, I wouldn't mind doing something similar with the Irish press. Hardly a day goes by without my coming across an article in one of our broadsheets which misses the mark. I don't expect the secular media to confine themselves to printing only good things about the Church, clergy and the laity; I do wish that our Irish journalists would write a little more fairly and a lot more knowledgeably.

A Typical Example
Take, for example, this report in today's Irish Times about Ave Maria University Professor Colin Barr's latest book The European Culture Wars in Ireland – The Callan Schools Affair, 1868-81. (I've met Professor Barr and he's an expert on the life and times of the 19th Century Irish Cardinal Paul Cullen.)

The Context
The headline reads: Mental reservation used 'to lie to jury'. Now, non-Irish readers need to understand the context of this. As part of an investigation (the Murphy Report) into the abuse of minors by clergy in the Archdiocese of Dublin, Cardinal Connell (former Archbishop of Dublin) explained that he felt justified in making certain seemingly mis-leading statements by virtue of the doctrine of mental reservation. The Cardinal understood that he was telling the truth, but in such a way that it concealed knowledge from the person asking the question either because the person asking wasn't entitled to know the information at issue or in order to justifiably prevent harm.
One such example given in the Murphy Report was Cardinal Connell's telling journalists that diocesan funds are not used for the compensation of child abuse complainants. He believed himself justified in saying that because it was a true statement. However, he didn't volunteer that diocesan funds may have been used that way in the past. For whatever reason, he either thought that the journalists shouldn't be told that.
Now, one can argue about whether Cardinal Connell was justified or not in dealing with the journalists that way. The point, however, is that when the Cardinal explained that he was engaging in 'mental reservation', this was seized upon by commentators as an example of how dishonest the Catholic clergy are in that they could cook up such an idea as mental reservation so that they could lie to people at will.

Did anyone bother to find out what was meant?
I don't know of any Irish journalist that bothered seriously investigating what was meant by 'mental reservation'. If any of them had done so, they'd probably have discovered that mental reservation is something they almost certainly do themselves and which they find morally unobjectionable. One could imagine a journalist being put under pressure to reveal a source, saying that he didn't hear about such-and-such a secret from Mr Purple, when in fact he had learned about the secret from Mr Purple. Perhaps Mr Purple had sent the journalist a note, so technically the journalist didn't hear anything from Mr Purple. That would be an example of mental reservation. Whether and when it's a justifiable thing to do is as open to debate. Whether Cardinal Connell was as honest as he should have been with the media is a question worth asking. But it's intellectually sloppy and ethically careless to use the expression 'mental reservation' as a codeword to suggest that Catholic priests can't be relied upon to tell the truth.

Latent Anti-clericalism
Anyway, Michael Parsons of the Irish Times explains:

“Mental reservation” allows clerics knowingly to mislead people “without being guilty of lying”, and came to public attention last year in the Murphy Report (on clerical sexual abuse).

Note the suggestion that mental reservation is a devious clerical activity rather than something which is part and parcel of pretty much everyone's generally accepted standard of truthfulness. (It should be noted that the Murphy Report itself doesn't help because of its statement: Mental reservation is a concept developed and much discussed over the centuries, which permits a churchman knowingly to convey a misleading impression to another person without being guilty of lying. One might as well say that alcoholism is a disease which leads to journalists getting riotously drunk on a regular basis.) Indeed, I would argue that most people are much looser in their use of untruths, half-truths and equivocations than the Catholic idea of mental reservation would permit.

Why is this a story?
Well, that explains the headline and probably explains why the launch of Professor Barr's book made the Irish Times at all - it's another example of clerical perfidy to be brought to the public's attention. So, how did [Cardinal Cullen use] the concept of “mental reservation” to “lie to a jury and commit perjury in a civil court case”? (The quotations are, one presumes, from Professor Barr's book.) The article doesn't bother telling us! I've read and re-read the article, and there is nothing about any testimony given by Cardinal Cullen in court. The article doesn't explain what truth - if any - the Cardinal was trying to conceal and what form of words - if any - he used in court to conceal it. All we have is the term 'mental reservation' thrown out there to blacken Cardinal Cullen's name without bothering to explain what charge is being made against him.

Now, it could well be that Cardinal Cullen behaved dishonestly - I have no particular brief to defend his memory, even though I think he gets a pretty raw deal from our journalists. (Interestingly, Mary Kenny writes very well about Cardinal Cullen in today's Irish Catholic!) I don't think one needs to be particularly cynical to suggest the fact that reminding us all of the Murphy Report and of Cardinal Connell's mental reservation is the probable motivation for the story and headline as published rather than telling us anything substantial about Cardinal Cullen or Professor Barr's book.

Postscript
In 1864 Cardinal Newman wrote his famous Apologia pro vita sua, an explanation of the development of his own religious thought in response to Charles Kingsley's attack on Newman's own honesty and the integrity of Roman Catholic clergy in general. The passage which Newman found objectionable in a book review of Kingsley's was the following:

Truth, for its own sake, had never been a virtue with the Roman clergy. Father Newman informs us that it need not, and on the whole ought not to be; that cunning is the weapon which Heaven has given to the saints wherewith to withstand the brute male force of the wicked world which marries and is given in marriage. Whether his notion be doctrinally correct or not, it is at least historically so.

In the resulting exchange of letters and his publication of the Apologia, Newman roundly refutes Kingsley's charge and writes one of the finest spiritual autobiographies. Interested readers might like to read the correspondence between Newman and Kingsley.

Michael Kelly on the Claudy Report

Some quarters of the media have been throwing around the word 'cover-up' to describe the Church's actions regarding the alleged involvement of a priest in a 1972 bombing. However, as Michael Kelly's latest blog post shows, such mud-slinging is gravely misleading.

The report itself shows that the RUC were - for whatever reason - unwilling to investigate Fr Chesney fully. There's no evidence that this unwillingness to investigate came due to pressure from Church quarters and, indeed, it seems as though the whole situation was sprung on Cardinal Conway who was left in an awkward spot. This priest was suspected of involvement in a bombing and the Church co-operated fully with the civil authorities. Formal and informal questioning of Fr Chesney by other clergy turned up nothing but a denial and the police were unwilling to investigate further. The Cardinal was hardly in a position to dictate how the RUC investigate a terrorist crime and nor does it seem that he was in a position to carry out any kind of disciplinary action within the Church based on the evidence to hand. Going public with the suspicion would have served no good and would probably have led to priests being targeted by loyalist terrorist.

I'm sure some journalists get a kick out of putting an anti-Church spin on what happened, but the only accurate description of what happened here is Church co-operates with law enforcement authorities.

Religious Journalism in Ireland...

The only National Daily paper I read with any regularity is the Irish Times. However, even the most-respected of the Irish dailies is very weak in terms of its religion coverage. Unfortunately the religion related content of today's paper seems to be dominated largely uncritical reporting of the speeches of the Church's critics - internal and external - during the various 'Summer Schools' which have been held in various Irish venues over the past few days.

However, what really caught my eye was this report:

PRESIDENT MARY McAleese and the Archbishop of Dublin, Diarmuid Martin, are among the speakers due to address the annual “Meeting For Friendship Between Peoples” next week, held by the influential Italian Catholic lay movement Comunione e Liberazione in Rimini.
President McAleese, who delivers one of the opening speeches of the six-day meeting tomorrow evening, is expected to deal with the history of the conflict in Northern Ireland in an address entitled, “The Forces Which Change History Are Those Which Change The Hearts Of Men”.
Archbishop Martin will take part in a public debate on Tuesday, focused on the figure of John Henry Newman and entitled, “In Defence Of Reason”.

Very interesting...

However, a few paragraphs later, the paper's Roman correspondent goes on to say:

Generally perceived as right-wing, conservative and integrationalist, CL has often been politically active in Italy. In the 1970s, the movement played a prominent part in failed campaigns to prevent the legalisation of both abortion and divorce. CL has always counted important shakers and makers among its public supporters, including most notably the seven-times prime minister Giulio Andreotti.

One can debate the accuracy of that description of CL and the question of how one can accurately and fairly report on a 'general perception', but what strikes me is the use of the term integrationalist. What's that supposed to mean? I'm pretty sure that Paddy Agnew meant to use the word integralist which makes at least some sense in context. (He may have intended to say integrist, but I doubt it...)
The point I'm making, however, is that someone - either Paddy Agnew or an Irish Times sub-editor - seems to have thrown that technical term out there, without taking the care to ensure that it was being used correctly and explained to the readership. I would wager that fewer than one reader of the Irish Times in fifty would be able to explain what was meant by the adjectives integrist and integralist, or would understand that the word integrationalist seems to be meaningless in context.

The Thorny Question of Child Protection...

The Irish Independent carries a report of how some parishioners have reacted following the stepping down of their Parish Priest in order to facilitate a child protection investigation:

SUPPORTERS of a priest who stepped down from his position over allegations regarding the safeguarding of children have said he will launch a robust defence against what they described as the "ludicrous" claims.
A groundswell of support has gathered in Blackrock, Co Louth, for Fr Oliver Brennan, who made the decision in order to allow the investigation to proceed.
Substantial anger has been aimed at Bishop Gerard Clifford, who made a statement telling parishioners of the development at a Mass over the weekend.
(snip)
Bishop Clifford was confronted by a number of irate parishioners after he read the statement. He was said to have been visibly affected by their angry reaction.

To be quite honest, I don't know whether the current protocols regarding how these issues are handled need to be reviewed in the interest of the 'natural justice' due to the priest. However, in terms of understanding the past and dealing with the present, it's well worth taking note of the pressure the Bishop is being put under for dealing with this case 'by the book'. You can be sure that similar pressures were at issue when these things were handled a lot differently in the past. People don't want to believe these things about their clergy. I hope and pray that Fr Brennan is totally innocent of any wrong-doing, but if, God forbid, he is found guilty of something, how do we interpret the actions of his parishioners. Would it be fair to call them facilitators in abuse?
I have no brief to defend the indefensible or to justify the actions of bishops whose actions perpetuated abuse, but the groundswell of support for Fr Brennan should make us think about why it was so easy for our bishops to make such bad decisions in the past.

The Preaching Life...

A priest-friend and fellow-soldier from our seminary days, Fr SC has started a new blog devoted to preaching called 'The Preaching Life' - do check it out.

Pointers towards a response to James P Mackey

The Irish Times is running a series of 5 articles by James P Mackey which are supposed to reflect on the future of the Catholic Church in Ireland. Well, that's what the by-line says. Professor Mackey himself admits to a more polemic intention. Starting with the Papacy he says:

[I]n this and a further four columns, five features of church life and teaching that most loudly cry out for reform will be analysed.

Certainly not a case of 'accentuate the positive'... I won't deny the usefulness of non-Catholics presenting their critique of the Church and her constitution, but what I find offensive about this article is the way in which the author's criticisms are so detached from an accurate understanding of Church history and what the Church actually teaches about the Papacy. It's the kind of mud-slinging exercise which poisons the public discourse and upsets Catholics who haven't had the formation to see the blunders that Mackey makes.

Mackey's Reading of Scripture
Mackey begins with his reading of the Gospel scene where Christ appoints Peter as the Rock on which His Church would be built...

In the gospel scene in which the prophet, Jesus of Nazareth, is thought to have instituted papacy, Jesus is pictured choosing a leader for his group of close companions in mission. He wants to make sure the leader will know who Jesus is and what he is about.
Cephas steps forward and confesses that Jesus is the Christ and is duly rewarded with the new name, Peter or Rock, and given the keys of the kingdom of God. But at this point promoters of a Petrine papacy seem to stop reading and fail to notice that Peter is quickly fired from the job just offered him.
When Jesus went on to say that he must go up to Jerusalem and die for his message and mission, as prophets often had to do, Peter corrected him.
Jesus suddenly realised that Peter’s idea of the Christ was modelled on King David, the paradigmatic Christ in Israel’s history, who would reign over the same kingdom, now won back from the Romans, and reign as absolute monarchs are wont to reign, by threat of force both armed and punitive.

Beneath that analysis is a picture of a Jesus Christ who doesn't really know what's going on. Mackey presents Him as a wobbly and indecisive personnel manager rather than the Incarnate Son of God. Christ's rebuke of Peter is severe - Get behind me Satan - but if you actually read the Gospels AND read the writings of the early Christians, there's no indication that Peter's commission was somehow withdrawn at that moment. When dealing with the Apostles, the consensus of the scriptural and non-scriptural early texts of Christianity consistently put Peter in the role of leader.

Now, theologians can and do argue about what that role means for the future of the Church and the development of the Papacy, but Mackey's suggestion that Christ somehow sacked Peter just after appointing him is a novel and bizarre reading.

Of course, the Gospels do show Peter making a mess of things. They don't paint a rosy picture of him. (And this is a point in favour of their accuracy!) He can be blustering and impetuous, and when the moment of trial comes, He denies Christ three times. That is a moment where Peter seems to undo himself. However, far from being a moment where Christ dismisses him, it's Peter's own weakness which sees him fall short of the role given to him. And Christ knew that would happen. If we have a look at the 22nd Chapter of Luke we find:

"Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail; and when you have turned again, strengthen your brethren."

Even after his failure, the task of strengthening his brethren would fall to Simon Peter.

And when he does fall, what's Christ's response? After He rises from the dead, he takes Peter aside...

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you." He said to him, "Feed my lambs." A second time he said to him, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you." He said to him, "Tend my sheep." He said to him the third time, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, "Do you love me?" And he said to him, "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you." Jesus said to him, "Feed my sheep. Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you girded yourself and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish to go." (This he said to show by what death he was to glorify God.) And after this he said to him, "Follow me." (John 21:15-19)

The three-fold denial is undone with a three-fold declaration of love, and even though Peter is more aware than ever of his weakness, Christ commissions him to feed His flock.

Mackey seems to side-step the importance of that passage by saying, "There is no scene in the New Testament that describes Jesus reinstating Peter as pope before he died; indeed in one scene of the arrest of Jesus, Peter draws the sword to bring on the insurrection." Note the qualification before he died. Is Mackey unwilling to deal with the 21st chapter of John because he doubts the veracity of the resurrection appearances or is he sneakingly trying to dodge the issue with a little equivocation. Is he hoping that the readers won't notice the qualification he makes and will overlook what Christ has to say after He rose from the dead?

Constantine and the Pope?
The rest of Mackey's article is flawed as well. He brings up the old boogey-man of the Constantinian papacy - the idea that somehow the first three centuries of Christianity led to the generation of a Papal monarchy. Even a cursory reading of Church History shows that Mackey doesn't know what he's talking about. Yes, things did change for the Church with Constantine. But, it didn't result in the immediate creation of some form of Papal Monarchy. Indeed, Mackey seems to be engaged in some hand-waving here... He points out:

The assimilation was consummated under Constantine, who himself as Pontifex Maximus was head of religion as well as state; just as Pope Benedict is absolute monarch of his Vatican statelet and simultaneously of the worldwide Catholic Church – and pretender to absolute rule over all other Christian churches.

Is he implying that Benedict XVI is - in some sense - a successor to Constantine? Well, he's glossing over the fact that Constantine wasn't Pope. Whatever was 'consummated' under Constantine wasn't some kind of Papal Imperium. Mackey seems just to want some kind of excuse to throw Benedict's name next to that of nasty ol' Constantine.
What Mackey is not saying is that from the time of Constantine onwards, one of the key battles of the Church has been to stop secular rulers from abusing the spiritual authority of the Church for their own advantage. Putting a limit on the claims to spiritual authority of Constantine and his successors - as well as preserving the Church's own independence from temporal interference - is one of the big themes of Church history for the millennium after Constantine. Scraps between Pope and Emperor pepper the following centuries.
The Papacy does develop over that span of time. Frequently some very unworthy men filled that office. Many of them could be accused of greed and veniality. However, the assertion of Papal authority which came under Pope Gregory VII (1073-85) is much more important in terms of defining the role of the papacy than anything that happened with Constantine. The Gregorian Reform, as it is known, was aimed at securing the freedom of the Church from the corruption of medieval nobles, a renewal of holiness and an affirmation of the spiritual mission of the Church. Now, the history of the Papacy is certainly painted in shades of grey and there's plenty there to criticise. However, the point I wish to make is that Mackey's historical picture is confusing and detached from the facts.
I'm also at a loss to charitably interpret Mackey's reference to the 'Vatican statelet'. Does he want us to imagine Benedict sitting on his sofa contemplating his absolute rule over a mighty empire of 110 acres? The Vatican City State could have been bigger, but during the negotiations with the Italian state in the 1920s Pope Pius XI refused to accept anything more than the current size of the Vatican to serve as place which guarantees the independence of the Papacy.

The Infallible Governor?
Finally, the sting in the tail, Mackay's assessment of Papal infallibility and his confusion between the Pope's teaching and governing functions:

The matter of papal infallibility is also relevant to the historical papal hunger for absolute power; as the promoters of that cause before Vatican II amply illustrate.
For even if an absolute monarch dictates to you, without need for your agreement, some harsh rule on what to believe, how to worship, how to live, you might still retain some slight hope that you could persuade him that this was a mistaken or at least a counter- productive move. If though he has decreed himself infallible, you are utterly helpless.

Speaking of the Pope as an 'absolute monarch' is a somewhat pejorative description of the Pope's role in the Church. Yes, he does have the 'last say', but to speak of him as an 'absolute monarch' without reference to the rights of the laity and clergy as set out in the Code of Canon Law, without reference to the governance exercised by bishops in their own diocese (something the Papacy is loath to interfere in) and without reference to how things actually work is a cheap shot. Additionally, the Pope's authority to teach infallibly on matters of faith and morals is not something self-declared. It's something taught by the First Vatican Council and (horror of horrors!) Vatican II. Mackay's article would be a lot more useful if it explored what that infallibility consisted of. It's not about infallible governance as Mackay seems to imply, but rather a special charism and responsibility to formally and authoritatively teach in matters of faith and morals. It's something which has been used sparingly and within a narrow scope. And, it's also worth pointing out, when the world's bishop's teach together on matters of faith and morals - either when they gather together in a council or when they teach separately but in harmony in their own diocese - they too have the charism of infallibility.
The appeal to infallibility has - in theory and in practice - very little to do with how the Pope governs the Church from day-to-day. It's an easy word to bring up when you want to have a pot-shot at the Catholic Church, but Mackay's article doesn't even try to engage with actual Church teaching about the Papacy or infallibility. Nor does it go into specifics about how infallibility has been mis-used. One would expect better from someone claiming to be a theologian.

Why not an honest critique?
There are issues to be discussed here both within and outside the Church. The ongoing dialogue with the Eastern Orthodox Churches will see the role of the Papacy debated and clarified. However, discussion cannot be based on the kind of caricature painted in Mackay's unworthy article. He presents us with a reading of scripture which has no support in the New Testament itself or in any early Christian reading of the scriptures that I'm familiar with. His reading of Church history is self-contradictory and doesn't even attempt to engage with the real (and sometimes murky, I admit) development of the Papacy's temporal and spiritual power. And, finally, his point about the Pope's role as 'absolute monarch' seems to based on a knee-jerk distaste for the term infallibility rather than an actual engagement with what, for example, Vatican II teaches about the governance of the Church or how things actually happen in real life.

Footnote:
A close reading of Vatican II's Lumen Gentium explains the make-up of the Church and the Pope's role. Likewise, the Catechism does a good job explaining the special mission of the Pope and the hierarchy.

Edited to add:
I drafted this post under the assumption that Professor Mackey was a non-Catholic. However, some Googling suggests that he might be Catholic. That's a puzzle, because I would expect a theologian with a Catholic background to understand things a little better.