Fr Brendan Hoban wrote an article in the Irish Times a couple of days ago entitled 'We priests have earned right to say what needs to be said about state of church'. (I hadn't noticed that anyone was denying him that right...) Anyway, it's more of the same, throwing out buzz-words (as he says himself!) about the 2nd Vatican Council (a people’s church, co-responsibility, collegiality) rather than engaging with the actual intent and documents of the Council.
Anyway, Fr Hoban claims the right to put out some of his suggestions about how the Church might. In particular, he suggests female Cardinals and female heads of Vatican Congregations in order, seemingly, to give women 'a lift'. (Is that really his best argument? Then he argues ordaining 'viri probati' (men of proven worth) as priests 'with minimal formation or instruction, as presently with ordained deacons' in order to solve the problem of their not being enough clergy to celebrate Mass in our parishes in the next few years.
Now, I don't want to dismiss Fr Hoban's suggestions out of hand entirely. Personally, I would argue that his idea of 'Female Cardinals' is a non-runner as the office of Cardinal carries with it the idea of being part of the clergy of Rome and, by virtue of that, one of the Pope's close collaborators. Even the so-called 'Lay Cardinals' of previous centuries had received tonsure and minor orders making them clergy - even if for all intents and purposes they lived as laity. As the office of Cardinal is not of apostolic origin, but rather arose in medieval times, one could certainly imagine an evolution of the Cardinalate in such a way that it was open to laypeople (male or female). However, given that the meaning and purpose of the office is rooted in the concept of being a member of the Roman clergy, I don't quite see whether such a development would be wise or natural.
Likewise, the question of women heading up Vatican Congregations is something that could well happen. The key issue is not whether women can be appointed to these posts, but whether laypeople in general can be. Without going into the canonical and theological side of things, some posts in the Vatican can only be held by clergy because they carry with them authority over areas of Church life that belong properly to those who have received ordination. (The clearest example is that of the Apostolic Penitentiary who deals with issues to do with the confessional, but there are plenty of other examples.) Other posts do not involve that authority and would be open to laypeople - male or female.
As a matter of historical fact, laypeople have been appointed Undersecretaries at a number of Vatican Congregations - that's the No.3 spot in the organizational chart. Whether a layperson could be appointed to a higher position is a matter of debate - particularly given what Vatican II has to say about the way in which the task of Church governance belongs to those in Holy Orders.
This is an issue that commentators such as Fr Hoban don't seem to wish to address. Vatican II taught very clearly on the role of the clergy (and Bishops in particular) and their responsibility in governing the Church in such a way that the idea of assigning particular roles and offices to laypeople runs directly counter to the teaching of the Council.
Despite articulating the vision of the Church as People of God, the Council also clarified the respective roles and responsibilities of clergy and laity, whilst many of those claiming to speak according to the 'spirit of the council' seem to want to clericalize the laity and laicize the clergy. Additionally, Fr Hoban's suggestion of appointing women as Cardinals or Heads of Congregations to give women a life strikes me as tokenism. I'd much rather a serious engagement with the questions of how we clergy can empower our parishioners in fulfilling their Christian vocations in the world, exploring ways in which we can collaborate more effectively with our parishioners and draw on their expertise and insights in such a way that our own ministry is more effective.
Fr Hoban's suggestion that viri probati (laymen of proven worth) should be ordained priests in order to cope with the shortage of priests is also an idea which might be worth some consideration, but not in the manner suggested by him.
To be frank, I wonder what regard Fr Hoban holds his own priesthood in if he believes that in the future he should be replaced by someone suitable chosen from his parish who is given 'minimal formation or instruction'[!!!] and is then ordained.
(I should also point out that his suggestion that the 4 year training programme candidates for the permanent diaconate receive is 'minimal' strikes me as hugely offensive to the candidates and their formators.)
Anyway, regarding this question of viri probati, it should be recognised that in the first centuries of the Church, men of worth in the local Christian community were chosen and ordained for ministry. (St Ambrose wasn't even baptised when the people of Milan picked him as their bishop!) This stands in contrast to the model whereby men discern a calling or attraction to the priestly life, spend years in training and formation, are ordained and then assigned by the Bishop to serve a particular local community. One can certainly see the attraction of communities being led by one of their own whose integrity of life and suitability for ordination is shown by a lifetime of Christian witness (perhaps as a husband and father) and a demonstrated commitment to the Church and the Church's mission as a layperson.
There is certainly food for thought there, and the advantages and disadvantages of such a model of priestly ministry should certainly be discussed. There are plenty of theological and practical reasons not to re-adopt that model as well.
The point I would made is that the particulars of Fr Hoban's suggestion are ill-founded. Fr Hoban makes the suggestion that the viri probati model be adopted in order to prevent a Eucharistic famine - the prospect of there not being enough priests to celebrate Mass. The fact that he believes that the ordination of these men can happen with 'minimal formation' suggests that he sees ordination in this context as being something that facilitates the valid celebration of sacraments and little more. The picture he's putting forward is of these men getting enough training to say Mass, whilst presumably the ministry of leadership and teaching in the parish is entrusted to someone else. One would have thought that Fr Hoban could offer a better picture of priesthood than that of 'sacramental dispenser'.
I would challenge Fr Hoban to find anything in the Second Vatican Council's theology of Holy Orders to justify such a vision of priesthood.
If he looks, he'll find that our sacramental ordination is intended to conform us to Christ the Head and Shepherd of the Church and that our vocation is to assist in that ministry of teaching, governing and sanctifying that Christ entrusted to the Apostles, their successors the Bishops and, through them, to priests as co-workers with the Bishops. Fr Hoban's idea of ordaining minimally trained laymen as priests in order to keep the Mass schedule going reminds me of the worst caricature of medieval clergy who had just enough Latin to enable them to celebrate Mass after Mass in the chantry for the souls of the dead.
To my mind, if we want to tackle the vocations problem we need to tackle the faith problem first. I'm in my mid-30s - a pretty rare demographic for priests in today's Ireland. If things carry on as they do, in a couple of decades time, I'll have the pastoral responsibility for an area currently served by (probably) 3 or 4 priests at the moment. However, I do not see the Irish Church's problem as being primarily one of vocations - it's one of faith. I don't have the figures to prove it, but I would estimate that the number of vocations to the priesthood and religious life in the under-40 age group is proportionate and reasonable when you consider how few of that age-group are sincere, involved and practising Catholics.
That's the first and primary problem - forming people to be followers of Jesus Christ who believe and worship with the Church. Certainly we still have a majority of people who engage occasionally with the Church - for First Communions, weddings, funerals and so on, but if we don't form genuine disciples, then we have no reason to expect that there will be priests. As Pope Benedict said to the American Bishops, "Let us be quite frank: the ability to cultivate vocations to the priesthood and the religious life is a sure sign of the health of a local Church." We need to deal with that problem first.
Looking positively
Rather than just carp about what Fr Hoban wrote, I feel as though I should add something positive to the discussion. I don't have the same number of years of priesting under my belt as Fr Hoban does, but just as the young man Elihu 'has his spake' in the Book of Job after his elders have said their peace, I'll put forward a few observations as one of the younger priests in the country and someone whose faith was formed in the 1980s and 1990s and who discerned a vocation to the priesthood as some of the most shameful chapters of our history as a Church in Ireland came to light.
1. Time to Re-read Gaudet Mater Ecclesiae
We need to put the so-called 'Spirit of Vatican II' to bed. Pretty much every un-theological and counter-productive idea bubbling up these days is attributed to the Spirit of the Council rather than being rooted in the teachings of the Council itself. When Bl. John XXIII opened the council he put forward a vision of a historically aware, confident and informed Catholicism that was capable of both learning from and leavening the modern world so that people are brought to Christ. At the core of the Council was the idea of a re-discovery of scripture and the Church Fathers so that the treasure we have received from our ancestors might be passed on to the future. The Council did not ask us to develop amnesia about the teachings of the Church promulgated before 1962, but consolidated and developed them in a way which demands we understand them properly before facing into the future. In other words, we need to understand the Council according to the Hermeneutic of Continuity - the only possible & worthy hermeneutic if we believe in the work of the Holy Spirit in the Church.
2. Lessons to be Learned from the Eucharistic Congress
This year saw the 50th International Eucharistic Congress in Dublin. There has been criticism of the Congress from various viewpoints and there will be some truth in most criticisms. However, I would argue that on the whole, the Congress was a huge positive for the Church in Ireland and - if we choose to learn lessons from it - will bear much fruit.
Firstly, attendance at the Congress exceeded the figures expected by the prophets of doom. Talks and workshops were packed out and there was a great 'buzz' around the RDS during Congress week. There was a genuine desire amongst those present to learn more about their faith and to celebrate it. The lesson to be learned is as follows: If we put the effort in to it, our people do want to deepen their faith and celebrate it.
Secondly, I was quite involved in Congress preparations in my diocese. As a general pattern, in parishes where clergy and one or two interested laity were enthusiastic in promoting the Congress, people tended to make the journey to Dublin for it. In places where the clergy were cynical and didn't encourage and support their parishioners to take part, turn-out tended to be low. Probably the greatest tragedy of the Congress was meeting cynical clergy who showed up at the RDS to see what was happening, had a great time and were personally converted.
This 'conversion' happened much too late for them to be able to invite their parishioners to 'come and see' what was happening at the Congress. If those clergy of Ireland who were cynical or apathetic about the Congress had a change of heart 6 months before the Congress, the RDS wouldn't have been half big enough for the attendees. As we face into the Year of Faith, the clergy of Ireland cannot afford to be cynical about it or will will be complaining about it as a 'lost opportunity' at the end of 2013. We also need to make sure that our key lay collaborators are involved in planning and promoting activities for the year of Faith.
3. Share the Good News
Last year, the Episcopal Conference launched a National Directory for Catechesis called Share the Good News. I don't think it's made much of an impact yet, but I think it demands serious attention. It sets out a 10 year plan for parishes so that they can more effectively teach the faith. In my judgement, the content of the Directory is excellent and deals precisely with this problem of teaching the faith that is at the heart of so many of our current problems.
Along similar lines, the Archdiocese of Dublin is taking steps in the right direction regarding the formation of children and parents for the sacraments. (I especially like the fact that they're encouraging parents to re-discover the sacrament of reconciliation.) More can and will need to be done, of course, but it's a positive move. Again, clergy need to 'pull together' and be supportive of these efforts to make the most of these pastoral opportunities.
I could write more about the opportunities that are out there, but I need to get an early start on my 'First Friday Calls.' If I could sum up what I want to say about the Church in Ireland in two sentences, it'd be as follows. We need to understand that the problem we face is a problem of faith, and we won't bring people to faith unless we teach the faith. Our parishes and our pastoral activities need to have that mission of teaching as a priority these days, and Pope Benedict's calling of a Year of Faith comes at a providential time for the Church in our country.
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Mother Teresa's Dark Night and the meaning of Faith
The whole issue of what faith is intrigues me, and thanks are due to Amy Welborn for pointing me towards this little article by Anthony Esolen which deals intelligently with Mother Teresa's experience of doubt. The whole thing is worth reading, but the following extract contains the meat of what he's saying:
It is not a mysterious thing, after all, that a young and enthusiastic person should become disillusioned after a month or two of the squalor of the Black Hole of Calcutta. People lose their faith all the time -- and people gain their faith all the time, and often they are the same people. What is mysterious is that after her visions of Jesus ceased, after all the inner consolations were taken away, after the locutions, what my evangelical brethren call "words of knowledge," fell silent, still Mother Teresa clung to Christ. She retained her faith without the emotional accompaniments (and here let married Christians take heed). She continued to serve the poor of Calcutta even though the nagging little viper at her shoulder must have whispered to her, constantly, "This is all absurd." Let us be absolutely clear about this: outside of the ambit of Christian culture, no one goes to Calcutta. What Mother Teresa did, no one does, not even for a year, without having been influenced by the message and example of Christ. And to live there for good, no one does at all without the virtue of faith.Now, the question of whether one can validly speak of Christ having faith is a whole 'nother ballgame... I'd quibble with Esolen on that point, but I think his point holds good.
[...]
Dubiety is inseparable from the human condition. We must waver, because our knowledge comes to us piecemeal, sequentially, in time, mixed up with the static of sense impressions that lead us both toward and away from the truth we try to behold steadily. The truths of faith are more certain than the truths arrived by rational deduction, says Aquinas, because the revealer of those truths speaks with ultimate authority, but they are less certain subjectively, from the point of view of the finite human being who receives them yet who does not, on earth, see them with the same clarity as one sees a tree or a stone or a brook. It should give us Christians pause to consider that when Christ took upon himself our mortal flesh, he subjected himself to that same condition. He did not doubt; His faith was steadfast; yet He did feel, at that most painful of moments upon the Cross, what it was like to be abandoned by God. He was one with us even in that desert, a desert of suffering and love. Nor did the Gospel writers -- those same whom the world accuses on Monday of perpetrating the most ingenious literary and theological hoax in history, and on Tuesday of being dimwitted and ignorant fishermen, easily suggestible -- refuse to tell us of that moment.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
A Homily to be Preached on Sunday 12th August 2007
Homily – 19th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year C)
Distorted Perspectives on Faith
The accusation is frequently made against people of faith that they are small-minded and mean-spirited. Newspaper columnists and commentators rarely seem to miss the opportunity to dismiss faith as being an ignorant and irrational narrowing of horizons, a force that does more harm than good. But, in reality, this is not so. Today’s readings provide a very different picture of what Christian faith really is. After all, the evidence is all around us. Faith builds Cathedrals and churches, hospitals and schools. Faith leads people to leave their native countries and devote their lives to helping the less well off. Faith raises up men and women of the calibre of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, St Charles of Mount Argus, Pope John Paul II, and countless others. Our sinful human nature may lead us to be small-minded and mean-spirited, but our faith always calls us to be big-hearted and generous in spirit.
You see, faith is not just about believing the right things. It also involves trusting in the promises of God. This is why the Letter to the Hebrews sets Abraham before us as our model of faith. The Lord promised a great inheritance for him and his descendents, and so, despite his age and childlessness, he set away from the security of his homeland and lived as a stranger in the Promised Land. There’s nothing small-minded or mean-spirited about taking what seemed to be such a gamble, but Abraham understood the power of the Promise of God. His example shows us that living by faith means understanding that we are not restricted to survival based on our own resources and strength. Trying to do that really is a recipe for living a grasping and narrow existence. However, if we trust ourselves to the promises of the God who is ever-faithful, we will have the courage to live a life of true generosity and open-heartedness.
The Challenge of Faith
This is why Christ challenges us in this Sunday’s Gospel. He tells us that there is no need to be afraid because God has promised us His kingdom. If we are willing to accept that, then we need have no fears about being generous. If we believe in His Word, then we can find reserves of calm in an increasingly difficult and turbulent world. If we trust in Him, and keep our eyes fixed on His Kingdom, only then can we understand the true value of the things of this world. Above all, living according to faith is, in a very real way, the beginning of eternal life. How can we entrust ourselves to the love of God in the next life, if we did not try to trust and love Him in this life?
The Call to Watchfulness
So, Christ invites us to watchfulness in order that we are ready for the Master’s arrival and do not miss out on the great promises that God has made to us. True, we are told what will happen to the servants who become complacent because they do not expect the Master to come. But this watchfulness is not about dodging a God who is determined to catch us out for not living by the rules. Instead, we know He tries to lead us in love into that kind of life which is the beginning of eternal joy. The Master who is to come, after all, feeds us in the Eucharist and offers us His forgiveness in the Sacrament of Penance. He gives Himself to us as our strength and is the very reason that we can live the kind of life that He rejoices in. In short, He challenges us to live in His friendship. The concrete details of how this is done will vary from person to person – but, if we live a life of faith and truly believe in His promises, we will have the strength to do this.
Perhaps we’re being called to faithfulness in marriage and to raise a family. Perhaps there are signs in our life that we are being called to priesthood or religious life. Perhaps we are realising the need to forgive someone or to find the courage to ask forgiveness. Maybe we are being called to break free from some particular sin. Maybe we are too concerned with money or pleasure or entertainment and have realised that there is something hollow about the life we are leading. Whatever it is, we are all being called by God – and He promises us that following that call will lead us to eternal life. Accepting that challenge and trusting in His promises is not small-minded or mean-spirited. Indeed, it is the only way that we can possibly live a truly free and human life.
In the words of Pope John Paul II: “Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return. Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ – and you will find true life.”
Distorted Perspectives on Faith
The accusation is frequently made against people of faith that they are small-minded and mean-spirited. Newspaper columnists and commentators rarely seem to miss the opportunity to dismiss faith as being an ignorant and irrational narrowing of horizons, a force that does more harm than good. But, in reality, this is not so. Today’s readings provide a very different picture of what Christian faith really is. After all, the evidence is all around us. Faith builds Cathedrals and churches, hospitals and schools. Faith leads people to leave their native countries and devote their lives to helping the less well off. Faith raises up men and women of the calibre of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, St Charles of Mount Argus, Pope John Paul II, and countless others. Our sinful human nature may lead us to be small-minded and mean-spirited, but our faith always calls us to be big-hearted and generous in spirit.
You see, faith is not just about believing the right things. It also involves trusting in the promises of God. This is why the Letter to the Hebrews sets Abraham before us as our model of faith. The Lord promised a great inheritance for him and his descendents, and so, despite his age and childlessness, he set away from the security of his homeland and lived as a stranger in the Promised Land. There’s nothing small-minded or mean-spirited about taking what seemed to be such a gamble, but Abraham understood the power of the Promise of God. His example shows us that living by faith means understanding that we are not restricted to survival based on our own resources and strength. Trying to do that really is a recipe for living a grasping and narrow existence. However, if we trust ourselves to the promises of the God who is ever-faithful, we will have the courage to live a life of true generosity and open-heartedness.
The Challenge of Faith
This is why Christ challenges us in this Sunday’s Gospel. He tells us that there is no need to be afraid because God has promised us His kingdom. If we are willing to accept that, then we need have no fears about being generous. If we believe in His Word, then we can find reserves of calm in an increasingly difficult and turbulent world. If we trust in Him, and keep our eyes fixed on His Kingdom, only then can we understand the true value of the things of this world. Above all, living according to faith is, in a very real way, the beginning of eternal life. How can we entrust ourselves to the love of God in the next life, if we did not try to trust and love Him in this life?
The Call to Watchfulness
So, Christ invites us to watchfulness in order that we are ready for the Master’s arrival and do not miss out on the great promises that God has made to us. True, we are told what will happen to the servants who become complacent because they do not expect the Master to come. But this watchfulness is not about dodging a God who is determined to catch us out for not living by the rules. Instead, we know He tries to lead us in love into that kind of life which is the beginning of eternal joy. The Master who is to come, after all, feeds us in the Eucharist and offers us His forgiveness in the Sacrament of Penance. He gives Himself to us as our strength and is the very reason that we can live the kind of life that He rejoices in. In short, He challenges us to live in His friendship. The concrete details of how this is done will vary from person to person – but, if we live a life of faith and truly believe in His promises, we will have the strength to do this.
Perhaps we’re being called to faithfulness in marriage and to raise a family. Perhaps there are signs in our life that we are being called to priesthood or religious life. Perhaps we are realising the need to forgive someone or to find the courage to ask forgiveness. Maybe we are being called to break free from some particular sin. Maybe we are too concerned with money or pleasure or entertainment and have realised that there is something hollow about the life we are leading. Whatever it is, we are all being called by God – and He promises us that following that call will lead us to eternal life. Accepting that challenge and trusting in His promises is not small-minded or mean-spirited. Indeed, it is the only way that we can possibly live a truly free and human life.
In the words of Pope John Paul II: “Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return. Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ – and you will find true life.”
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