While serving as a priest-chaplain in the largest military hospital in the world, I was fortunate to get to know well a man dying of cancer, Joe Condon. Joe was not only a life-long Catholic, but a man who had been living a life of genuine prayer. He studied his faith and sought to put it into practice. He would sit alone in silence everyday for meditation; and for years he had prayed to “meet a monk before I die.” Long retired, Joe attended daily Mass. As we spoke, he told me how disappointed he was in the parish priests he had known over the years. Joe looked me in the eyes, and said, “Father, they are not pastors. They are administrators.” Never having been a Catholic parishioner nor known many parish priests serving in the military, I asked him what he meant. He explained to me that the priests assigned to his parish in the San Diego area showed little or no interest in shepherding souls, but considerable interest in maintaining the buildings, having a large staff, making sure that the property looked good. But these priests showed virtually no interest in helping parishioners deepen their spiritual lives. As he said, “They can’t. They don’t have it to give. They are administrators.”
Even while celebrating Joe’s funeral in his home parish, I had to deal with his high-handed, self-important pastor, who insisted on leading a rosary before Mass, and raced through the rote words as if he was in a rush to get to a bathroom. What this pastor called “praying the rosary” seemed to me like a nearly blasphemous, noisy exercise of no genuine spiritual value to anyone; no doubt it served to flatter this monseigneur’s ego, that he was “doing something.” In reality, he came across as a hindrance to a genuine spiritual life, not a servant. Joe had attended daily Mass, yet I saw no understanding of who Joe was, nor any compassion extended to his very large family. This was my first taste of what Joe meant when he said, “Father, they are administrators.” They are indeed “worldly men,” who care for things, not for human beings.
Over time, while serving in Catholic parishes around the country, I have come to understand better what Joe Condon meant, and also to see other ways in which Catholic clergy seem to “play church” rather than seek to nourish human beings by and in the Spirit. Now I would say that there are various ways in which parish priests may be anything but genuine pastors—men entrusted with the care of souls. At the outset, I note that there are indeed some men who seek to serve the faithful, and who display a good practical understanding of what it means to be a spiritual father. Based on my experience in some six dioceses throughout this country, I would say that these men are all too scare, and surely an exception rather than the rule in the desert of the Church.
Furthermore, it seems useful to categorize the priests who are more or less just “playing church,” and who are in reality pseudo-pastors. We list them under several headings, depending on their predominant way of depriving human beings of genuine spiritual, intellectual, and loving care:
1. First, there are priests who really are primarily administrators of things, and not shepherd of souls. Indeed, they give the impression that they are not interested in human beings except to the extent that they “contribute to the parish” by giving generous sums of monies, and perhaps their time in unpaid labor. These administrators seek to maintain the church’s property, to make things “look good,” but are nearly devoid of a sense of the vacuum in their own soul, and in the souls of people in the pews. They stage a grand “production,” and overlook the real spiritual needs of the human beings sitting in front of them. These men are far more at home with handling things, than with working with and for human beings. And what many of them most like to handle is money: the more, the better. They seek to have large sums flow into the parish coffers, in part to impress the local bishop, in part to keep up appearances in the parish, and just possibly to “feather their own nests.” These administrators have real skills in raising money, and are rarely lacking it themselves. Their Lexus or Mercedes is washed and polished.
2. Second, there are the priests who play church by being virtually nothing more than sacramental ministers. They wear clerical garb around in public (often complete with a Roman collar), sometimes even parading about in black cassocks in public places. They are on display. They set their noses in the air, and talk about “Holy mother church,” “the Holy Mass,” “the holy Eucharist,” “holy days of obligation,” “holy priesthood”—holy cow, holy everything! These walking Infants of Prague sprinkle everything they say with “holy” (and sometimes even with “holy water’), perhaps hoping to give the impression to everyone that they themselves surely must be “holy priests.” How “holy” they may be is “unknown to anyone, except to the God,” but they surely know how to put on a wholly religious show. They play church. And in reality they come across as little more than walking Infants of Prague, dressed up for liturgical services, and not being real flesh and blood, not sharing in the weaknesses and sufferings of their parishioners. To share Christ, they are content to stick a host in someone’s mouth, and do so proudly, because they believe that “the sacraments work by their own working.” To visit the sick means for these churchy fellows to wipe some oil on a forehead and depart quickly from the hospital room, lest they be contaminated. They do not know that to share Christ means to communicate heart-to-heart, mind-to-mind, and willingly to share in the sufferings of others.These men, like the administrators, have not learned to give themselves. They are, after all, “too holy” for such mingling with the masses—except at “Holy Mass.”
3. Third, the worst group of parish priests: not shepherds at all, but habituated fleecers of sheep. These men are professional con-artists, who typically wear clerical garb around as a cover up for the scoundrels they really are. In meeting them, one wonders, “Why did this man ever become a priest?” They show little or no interest in God, no genuine love for the faithful, and much concern with getting money—not only for the church to keep up appearances, but most importantly, for themselves. These priests willingly go by the title, “father,” but they are no more genuine fathers than are the brutes who abuse children. In reality, these false shepherds abuse their parishioners by lying to them, deceiving them, and stealing monies from them. Indeed, some of them are such criminal personalities that they even steal chalices from the sacristy, sacred objects from the church, or put church property up for sale—all to swell their own private coffers. These men, long protected by the hierarchy, belong in prison, not in parishes.
What is a pastor in the context of the Catholic church, or of any of the churches? Whoever genuinely loves, cares for, looks after the spiritual and intellectual needs of others is a pastor. A good parent is a pastor of his or her children. A genuinely loving and self-giving spouse is a pastor to his or her beloved. A priest assigned to parishes is in reality a pastor if and only if he genuinely loves his people, seeks to get to know them personally, has a strong interest in their spiritual and intellectual well-being. A priest as pastor would not dump down-loaded or borrowed homilies onto those gathered at the Eucharist; rather, he would seek to help form those present by sharing in the living word of God, present here and now. He would seek to help open their minds with gentle persuasion, with kindness, with words of truth spoken from his heart to theirs. A genuine pastor, caring for those to whom he has been entrusted, seeks to help bind up their wounds in any way possible, and is ever mindful of his foremost duty: to help lead them into eternal life. A good pastor is not afraid to “smell like his sheep,” because he lives among them, is one of them, spends his time with them. Those in his pastoral care are in effect family members he knows by name and seeks to help grow into Christ.
In short, a real pastor knows the basic duties of being a shepherd of souls: helping to lead his people into eternal life, into “the Kingdom of God.” Second, he is available to his people night and day, whenever they need him. Third, he is readily open to hear them, to listen to their concerns, and to share his heart and mind with them. All to the glory of God.
Wm. Paul McKane, OSB
31 January 2019
Feast of St. John Bosco
The following is a brief and temporary note on what I plan to write on Bach.
Yesterday I received from Amazon the New Bach Reader. I have the original Bach Reader, which is good, but the vastly expanded and developed New Bach Reader is a superb resource on Johann Sebastian Bach. Presently I have writings by leading Bach scholars for study and for writing some little essays on what I have been calling “the spirituality of Bach.”
Titles are fittingly the last thing written (after or along with a Preface or Introduction). Still, an adequate description of the planned brief essays as presently conceived would be “Bach, evangelist of joy in Christ.” For such joy is, I maintain, the central experience communicated by Bach’s music, and this phase summarizes the heart of my understanding of Bach as master-musician. His own hand-written dedications to his compositions, copies of manuscripts, and above all, the music itself, give an abundance of testimony to his self-consciousness as a Christian firmly grounded in the Lutheran tradition. I fully concur with scholar Christoph Wolff’s claim (editor of the New Bach Reader) that Bach’s “religion” (his term, not mine) shows up as much in his “secular” music as in the bulk of his works, which were written for use in Lutheran liturgical services.
In 1735, around the age of 50, J S Bach wrote out a lengthy and descriptive genealogy of the Bach family, dated back to the 16th century. His second son, CPE Bach, added commentary later, and scholars have added more (with additions duly noted by Wolff). Two quick points: First, as Wolff summarizes, the Bach family can justly be called “a clan.” It was highly integrated, lived in a small area of central Germany, and amazingly numerous from fertility. Second, and astoundingly, the family produced many notable musicians of the day: they sang, played instruments, built instruments, conducted, and composed. It is no wonder that “Bach” can be used to signify a musician in German. (The noun “Bach” literally means stream in German, which I assume is cognate with our English word “brook.” To call a German “ein Bach” is understood to mean, “a musician,” for so many musicians came from the Bach clan.
How good it is to find such excellent resources for one’s studies. Now I have the works of leading Bach scholars at hand; through Apple Music access to numerous recordings of virtually all of his extant music (a huge amount of music); and significantly, the scores for a number of his major works (such as St Matthew and St John Passions, Mass in b minor, perhaps 15 cantatas [out of over 200], as well as scores for solo violin, cello, viola da gamba sonatas, and complete violin and harpsichord concertos, the Brandenburg Concertos, the Ouvertüren [“Orchestral Suites”], and so on. Online one has free access to the scores of all of Bach’s extant cantatas, as prepared by the 19th century Bach Gesellschaft edition of his complete works.
It is also reassuring that such a leading Bach scholar as Christoph Wolff confirms some of my main insights on Bach, and is able to express them in the language of a knowledgeable musicologist. For example, Wolff confirms my summary insight that in a given composition, Bach seeks to bring the whole diversity of things, of “all creatures great and small,” if you will, into the One, which Bach symbolized as “God” (Gott). In general, every work of art, whether in music, graphic arts, or poetry, is a little world; and the artist imitates the Creator by creating a little world. In Bach’s case, the imitative work is self-conscious, with an extraordinary effort to arrange all the parts in as well ordered a structure as possible, within the one Whole. In other words, the world as experienced by Bach is God’s well-ordered and beautiful creation. Each composition is a remarkable feat of engineering, shall we say: of imagination, of design, of knowing exactly what to include (and what not to include), of ordering all the parts to illuminate each other, and to “give glory” (Bach’s phrase) to the ultimate Creator, rather than to the composer as artist. As evidence of Bach’s intentions, he wrote at the beginning of each manuscript the letters, J.J., standing for Jesu Juva, a Latin phrase meaning “Jesus, help.” And at the end of each composition, Bach wrote the letters S.D.G., standing for the Latin, “Soli deo gloria,” meaning, “to God alone be the glory.” Now, one could dismiss his beginning and ending prayer-words as irrelevant, but the fact that he wrote them at the beginning and end of each composition is by no means to be dismissed as accidental or as incidental, anymore than one dismisses “Love” at the end of a letter, despite its frequent use. And why did Bach write in Latin, when he was a German? Because in the 18th century, Latin was still the nearly universal language of scholars and educated people throughout Europe; Latin was the one language understood throughout the vast area.
In sum, Bach was a devout Lutheran Christian, and his music stands as a testimony to extraordinary “faith working through love,” using the Apostle Paul’s phase. The closest analogue I can call to mind for a Bachian composition would be a Platonic dialogue, such as the Republic, or the Laws: everything is exactly in the right place, unfolding, step by step, until the whole work is well-ordered and complete. To call such a work “genius” is an understatement. It is a work of wisdom, which arranges all parts in a completely well-ordered whole. For my part, all I can do is to observe, to seek to understand, and to be awed at such a work of the divine Spirit.
Love in Christ to all
Brother Paul, on my feast day
What follows is neither fully known nor unknown. It is, as is so often the case, an experiment, an attempt to clarify certain problems of the mind in our contemporary culture. Nothing here needs to be taken too seriously, or rather, too literally. Any question may be raised. Nothing is out of bounds in this thought experiment.
What is one to do, living or dying in a society such as ours? Is it responsible merely to live one’s daily life as if…? As if what? As if it just continues, as if one’s life is whole or wholesome, as if this society is fundamentally good or healthy or life-affirming. What is one to do, living in the midst of so much spiritual, mental, emotional, and even physical disorder? What does one do living blindly among the blind? Well, open one’s eyes, perhaps.
How can one responsibly turn to our political leaders, looking for guidance, or justice, or an example of goodness? How can one responsibly turn to our religious leaders, expecting truthfulness and uprightness? Is there any individual, any group, in this society, that is not tainted with our diseases of spirit and mind? Love your beloved spouse or friend despite his or her flaws, but do not pretend that he or she is what that person is not. We are all not only wounded, but wounding, and corruption is found everywhere one turns—even in one’s heart.
Perhaps one expected to find some peace, some goodness in one’s faith tradition, in church or synagogue or temple, or in one’s sangha. And what shows up? So much illusion and delusion, deceitfulness, lying, hatred, desires for gain, for power. No one can escape the self in its illusions, greed, lust, foolishness. One must strive to rise above one’s lower self, one’s own impurities and flaws. And the flaws of others.
What seems reasonable and fitting in our society is to suspend one’s attachment from all institutions: state, church, police, schools, laws, various groupings. Those often thought noble or capable of leading others have shown themselves to be blind guides indeed, or worse: deceivers seeking to “rip off” anyone and everyone. Some of the worst spectacles of deceit show up in the church hierarchy. But plenty show up in our so-called “Department of Justice,” which in many cases is as much a department of injustice as one would find in a totalitarian society.
Has our country become a totalitarian society? If not, we have been moving in that direction for decades, and the pace seems to be accelerating. We are building a prison for human beings, for minds, from which escape becomes increasingly difficult and unlikely.
To repeat for clarity: we are building ourselves a prison-culture of mindlessness, of diseases of the spirit, of destruction. When will it occur to the so-called learned elites who rule us by their vicious opinions of how evil we have become, even to the point of murdering infants in the womb, and proclaiming ourselves “enlightened” for doing so? When will it occur to our citizens that proclaiming ourselves free and equal, we have enslaved ourselves to the worst drives and passions in our souls? Future generations may well see how like we were to the Soviet Union, to Nazi Germany, to Maoist China, even while puffing ourselves up on being “a free society,” “a democracy,” “a land of liberty and equality.” How we deceive ourselves, we Americans. We are one of the most destructive societies in history. How many human beings have we allowed to be killed in the name of someone’s “right to choose”? Right to choose what? To choose to have a human being destroyed in the most brutal ways. And how proud we are of ourselves for this so-called “life-style.” America has made itself a society of mass-murder in which the most powerless are destroyed by those with power. And all dressed up in “rights,” in “our needs,” in our “freedom and equality.” If America is not a prison society of the mind, where the most base opinions and actions are held up as good and right, what could a human prison possibly look like? If America has not become a culture of death, what would one look like?
A wicked ruler in our country is mass opinion: the slogans, the biases, the diseases, the infected breath of so many. At every turn one encounters the triumph of the worst in us, and among us—and at the same time, pretending that we are “basically good.” How deceived and deceiving we are in this prison-society.
What is one to do? First, suspend all loyalty, all attachment, to our “way of life,” to our culture, to our governments, to our institutions of “higher learning,” to our churches. To all that this society holds dear or of value, one must hold oneself back. Second, one must not seek to destroy anything, not even the corrupt leadership in politics or in churches or in “science,” but one must make a spiritual-mental break. Hatred breaks from nothing, but further incarcerates oneself. Love for what is evil is neither good nor truly possible. Hence, suspend, let go, stand back. Third, one must be ruthlessly honest with oneself, and seek to root out all evil from one’s mind and soul and character. One must not make excuses. If you have killed your parent by hatred or your unborn by “convenience,” at least admit the evil you have done, and cease coddling yourself, your criminal self, your self-deceptive self.
One could wish that sweet and gentle words were also truthful: just “love your enemy,” “love your neighbor as yourself,” with the misinterpreted implication that one should “love oneself” as one is, calling evil good. The problem is that we have so much self-love, and so much self-delusion. The self we love is often ourselves at our worst—our will to power, to pleasure, to gain. To love what we have become as a people in history is not a virtue, but foolishness and wickedness. We have become a shameful, deluded people. “The ugly American” has grown into America the ugly—into an empire of death. If one doubts the truthfulness of the term, “empire of death,” ask yourself: How many human beings have been murdered behind the walls of abortion mills? And virtually no awareness of what we are doing. How many human minds are killed by mass propaganda—from schools, mass media, popular music, entertainment?
If someone fifty years from now were to ask, “Why were you so silent?,” consider this: so many voices are heard, so much screaming, so many sounds that drown out thinking, that reason’s voice cannot be heard, is not heard, and so, is not heeded. America is hell-bent on doing what it wants. And so we keep murdering the unborn, perverting the minds of our children, deceiving each other under cover of suits and vestments. Where in America can reason speak and be heard? Perhaps only in the solitude of a hidden mountain valley, or on the open plains, by the sea—but then, even there, our culture of death penetrates through mass media, and mass opinions, and noises coming from every direction. We have made ourselves a people in history that hates quiet, hates solitude, hates aloneness. We bundle ourselves together in echo chambers, and drown out the whispers of silence and of emptiness.
Our society is becoming a living nightmare. How many realize this? Some sense it, but have no idea what to do. Our ideologies deceive us into thinking that every decadent act, every weird desire, is somehow a step towards “human progress.” Men try to make themselves women, and women try to become men. Children think that they are the centers of the universe, and parents think that their children are little gods. Good grief, so much stupidity and foolishness. Can we become worse as a people?
It seems possible, perhaps likely, that in the perspective of another century or two, some thoughtful human beings will look back on what had been “the United States of America,” and wonder how so many human beings could have been so self-deceived, so wicked, so degenerate, so destructive of themselves and of others.
America is killing itself. And we share in the act of murder.
24 Jan 2019
What follows is a tentative sketch, based on years of experience working with Catholic clergy in six dioceses spread out from Washington, DC to Japan (Archdiocese for Military Services). It reflects personal experiences working among priests assigned to parishes, and from dealings with bishops and deacons as well. I am not here reflecting on religious life in the Church, whether of brothers or of sisters, for whom I have deep respect and affection; vowed religious life is not my present focus. My primary concern is with the Christian faithful, and my conviction that they have generally not been well served in parishes, at least in recent decades. We have largely neglected to assist the faithful well in their spiritual and intellectual development.
Prefatory Note: When I use the word “spiritual,” as in this brief essay, I mean it in the sense of the German geistlich, which includes what in English is often broken into “spiritual” and “intellectual.” These two components of mental development are strongly connected, as the German word suggests. Especially in America, where there has often been what Fr. Greeley calls “anti-intellectualism,” “spiritual” can all too often drift into what is merely personal or even emotional, and hence become superficial and transient. What has prevailed in Catholic parishes has often been a disregard for the intellectual-spiritual development of the faithful, matters much deeper and distinct from the merely personal or emotional. In how many Catholic parishes is the life of the mind even taken into account? Many American pastors would probably say, “the life of the mind is not our concern.” What we have often offered our people is intellectually dull and mentally unchallenging, pretending that homilies aimed at an elementary school level are sufficient for adults. Even much of the music is jejune with banal texts. The public prayers are often stilted and muttered in cultic terminology alien to the minds of our people. In short, bishops, priests, and deacons are not tending our flocks well. Those with more inquiring minds or restless spirits drift away; those who accept mediocrity and intellectual-spiritual vapidity remain, often bored in their pews.
I. Some good qualities of Catholic priests in America
A. After several years of serving as a Navy Chaplain with Marines on Okinawa and on Mount Fuji, and at Naval Medical Center, San Diego, with permission from my Benedictine abbot, I returned to western Montana to serve as a parish priest. My elderly parents were living in our hometown of Missoula, and I wanted to be able to assist them if necessary, as they had so generously provided for me in my tender years. While serving in the Helena diocese, I experienced an interesting duality: Overall, the priests were friendly to one whom they considered “an outsider,” as I had not been born in Montana (my family moved here before I started high school). Of all the clergy with whom I have worked as a brother priest, I found those of the Diocese of Helena to be the friendliest. They smiled warmly and spoke to me at our various priestly gatherings. The only problem was that within a few months of working among them, as I subsequently learned, a number of them pressured the bishop to have me removed from the diocese. I should have seen the removal coming, for the pastor under whom I served had complained to me, “You believe in the divinity of Christ. I do not; I believe in his humanity. And I do not accept the authority of Rome.” We were at odds, and resolution came in the form of my removal from service in that outwardly friendly diocese.
After dismissing me from my assignment in Kalispell (where I lasted six months), I met with the bishop in private. He told me to live in Missoula with my parents, and that I could serve as a substitute in various parishes until he reassigned me. He also forbad me to visit Kalispell, where I had some dear friends. Unbeknownst to me, within a few weeks of our meeting, the bishop wrote a letter to my abbot, asking that I be called back to the monastery. When my abbot informed me that the bishop had terminated my service from his diocese, I was truly shocked; I felt betrayed, as the bishop had promised to reassign me. I got up the courage and returned to speak with the bishop—a man with a dominating personality who could be quite intimidating, and who had previously yelled at me several times. Despite my fears, the bishop was not unkind to me on this occasion when we spoke in his office. He said that he was convinced that my vocation could have worked in western Montana, but that the diocesan administrator had mistakenly “tried to put a square peg in a round hole” in giving me the assignment in Kalispell, where the pastor and I had different “theologies.” He further explained that “the damned incestuous Butte gang” of priests had pressured him to remove me from the diocese, asserting that I was “too traditional.” The bishop consented to the priests’ request to dismiss me.
As I came to realize over time, this bishop’s decision was essentially political: to keep a degree of peace with an outspoken portion of his presbyterate, he broke his promise to me, an “outsider.” And ideological thinking among the clergy took precedence over the truth of the gospel of Christ. This was my first intimate experience with diocesan clergy, and their political games disturbed me. In time I would come to understand that power politics plays a heavy role among diocesan clergy, especially among those who are not truly “men of the Spirit.” The Catholic hierarchy is fundamentally a social structure in which men seek to gain and to hold personal power, and to advance the positions of those whom they find useful to themselves, or with whom they are in ideological agreement. Truth, charity, and human decency are all-too-often sacrificed for power, prestige, and worldly gain.
I chose to remain in western Montana, which I consider my home, in order to be near my parents in case of need. An older priest assigned to parishes in the Bitterroot Valley, and living in Stevensville, allowed me to live in his rectory. He helped me to deal with clerical rejection, something he had experienced as well, for he did not share the “progressive agenda” of a sizable number of his brother priests in the Helena diocese. This good and humble man gave me genuine pastoral care, showing that he well deserved the sacred title, “Father.” Subsequently the bishop came down hard on this pastor, who was temperamentally a gentle soul. While celebrating Mass, he suffered a major heart attack. For this priest’s goodness and kindness to me, I will be ever grateful. In time I also became grateful for the experience of rejection by the bishop and the self-proclaimed “progressive” priests. My education in the Church had informed me that bishops act in the person of Christ; what I came to realize was that such a claim is at best misleading, and actually fallacious and self-serving. For in reality—not in abstract theological terms—this particular bishop had lied to me, not keeping his word to reassign me to another parish in his diocese. Lying and power games are not of Christ. Realizing that the bishop had not acted “in the person of Christ,” but out of darker and self-serving motives, initially caused me some mental pain. I was forced to “wake up and smell the coffee.” I had to re-evaluate the theological claim that the bishop, or the priest, is “alter Christus,” another Christ. All too often, clergy act in their own narrow self-interest, even while presenting themselves outwardly as “servants of Christ.” And so I chose to live in the truth rather than in the illusion of self-serving propaganda about clergy as “faithful servants of Christ.” Too many serve themselves and neglect the intellectual and spiritual well-being of those in their spiritual charge.
At the same time, I learned a lesson from the “liberal” or “progressive” priests in western Montana: “liberals” in the church are often illiberal, intolerant, and hostile when they encounter theological and political opinions contrary to their own. (The same is true of “progressive” lay persons who are given power-positions by clergy who favor them.) A more traditionalist priest, on the other hand, had accepted as a brother and dressed the wounds of someone who did not share his cherished and more fixed theological views. For in truth I have never been “a traditionalist,” yearning for “the good old days” before the Second Vatican Council. On the other hand, I surely did not share the “progressive” passion for “changing the world” as a substitute for grounding parishioners in Christ. Hence, another lesson learned: how one lives, what one does, are far more important than the ideological or theological views he or she espouses. As Jesus asked about the man who had been beaten up, robbed, and ignored by priests walking on the way to Jerusalem, “Now, which one showed mercy to the man who fell among thieves?” The kindly and charitable priest in Stevensville, Montana, had shown me genuine mercy, whereas the “progressive” clergy had me removed because I did not align with their “values” (a meaningless term often thrown around in our age). Only a priest who practices charity and lives in truth deserves the title, “Father”; the others are pretenders. Priests who do not truly serve Christ in the faithful are betraying Christ; often they are corrupt and corrupting, and should be assiduously avoided.
B. In addition to there being some genuinely compassionate and spiritually nourishing clergy, there are truly talented men serving among the diocesan priesthood. Some are good musicians, some are artists, some write, some are good mechanics, perhaps a small percentage can preach well. There are American priests and bishops who are reasonably intelligent, and have cultivated the life of the mind along life’s journey; but all too many come across as having been mediocre students at best, uninterested in studying philosophy or theology as required in their years of formation. Overall I would agree with Fr. Greeley’s assessment in The Priestly Sins that many priests are not only uninterested in thinking and doing intellectual work, but are actually anti-intellectual. On the other hand, I would maintain that a priest can still nourish others spiritually without being “an intellectual,” if he is truly “a man of God.” So my main point differs from Fr. Greeley’s: from what I have observed, all too many parish priests are not so much “anti-intellectual” only but anti-spiritual; too many are just plain “world” men. Often I’ve heard priests voice disdain for people such as evangelicals or Pentecostals with more simple beliefs, or even contempt for Catholics who find nourishment from Mother Angelica or similar traditional forms of piety. Some people may need these forms of spiritual nourishment, at least at times in their lives. And then there are the traditionalistic clergy, who in reality are religious fundamentalists wedded to their favorite externals, such as rules, rituals, and beliefs, rather than cultivating openness of mind and spirit. These forms of spiritual dwarfing show up in the clergy’s lack of respect for, or wanton ignorance of, the spiritual traditions rooted in Greek philosophy, in Hinduism, in the Buddha, in Lao-Tzu. I suspect few American diocesan priests have ever even read the Dhammapada or the poems of Lao-Tzu; the secular “progressives” would probably have little interest in such spiritual texts, and the immature traditionalists would think them “pagan” and “harmful to one’s Catholic faith.” In reality, study of various spiritual traditions would not be harmful to one’s faith, but to one’s fixed ideological beliefs, whether progressive or traditionalistic. Catholic clergy need a far deeper and richer spiritual and intellectual grounding.
Pointedly, a sizable proportion of Catholic clergy shows little appreciation for the rich mystical traditions within the history of Catholic faith and practice. How many of the clergy even realize that the Apostle Paul and the Evangelist John, for examples, were not just “believers” or “social activists,” but mystics, deserving to be read as such, not as proponents of “the true faith,” Catholic doctrines, or social action. I doubt that many of our American clergy could reasonably explain the relationship between faith and mystical experience. Although some “liberal” priests may know the value of some kinds of questioning, many priests do not seem to realize that faith that does not ask good spiritual questions is mere religious belief, and not genuine trust in God. “Faith without works is dead”; faith without questioning is also dead. Many clergy do not seem to grasp that static religious beliefs are actually a dead weight to the life of the spirit and mind. I heard one high ranking diocesan priest with whom I served read a homily in which he mocked some “far-off `cloud of unknowing,’” and admitted wanting to “build the Kingdom of God on earth.” His foolish opinion shared with those sitting idly in the pews surprised me, because I had assumed that he would know better. His missing the mark regarding the life of the spirit is by no means uncommon among Catholic clergy: they often display a lack of genuine spiritual experience or the understanding that comes from experiences in Christ. It seems that many priests are spiritually and intellectually mediocre at best. They hide behind rules, rituals, and sacraments, or behind programs for social action, and often snugly behind their clerical collars and smiles. The expansion of the mind beyond the confines of churchianity and hierarchy does not seem to be of high priority for most diocesan clergy. The faithful in Christ deserve much better.
Unfortunately, most American Catholics have been so poorly nourished by their priests over the past decades that they no longer understand or consciously desire what they are missing. Many lay persons seem to want to be amused and entertained rather than confronted with the truth of Christ; they want priests or deacons who flatter them, amuse them, entertain them. Yet, one also finds among church-attending Catholics an increasing sense of dissatisfaction with what is being offered them in the church. They are beginning to realize that they are being fed pablum, not solid food. The increasing discontent with spiritually impoverished Christianity is a sign of real growth. The Spirit is stirring. And surely those with the Spirit stirring in their hearts and minds are becoming painfully aware of just how spiritually, intellectually, and even ethically impoverished the hierarchical Church has become. Their spiritual unrest and discontent could possibly help lead to improvements if they find prudent ways to act on such discontent, and seek ways that nourish their minds and spirits. Indeed, some of these spiritually alive lay persons may even begin to wonder: Which is more like genuine communion and Eucharist: absorbing spiritual insight from a man or woman dedicated to the truth of God, or attending a liturgy that is far more of an entertaining show by Father Feel-good than an immersion into Christ?
II. A brief list of serious flaws common in American clergy
1. First and foremost among flaws in bishops, priests, and deacons today, I would point to a lack of grounding in philosophy, mystical theology, Scripture, Eastern spiritualities, ethics, and contemplative practices. Although perhaps a relative few priests do keep immersing themselves in such a grounding, I dare say that most make a weak attempt at best. As examples, I have known few Catholic priests who can read the New Testament in the original (unlike, say, many Lutheran pastors); indeed, Catholic clergy may sneer at a brother priest who reads the Greek or Hebrew to understand the sacred texts with more personal insight. Again, what Fr. Greeley called “anti-intellectualism” among the clergy, or what I would call a disdain for studying the things of God, shows up. Further, I doubt that most priests have ever studied the dialogues of Plato, or the Nicomachean Ethics of Aristotle, despite the spiritual wealth in such texts, or the enormous influence the classic Greek philosophers have had on Catholic theology and practice over the centuries. Priests may vaguely know doctrinalized fragments of theology from St. Thomas Aquinas, but probably few have ever read his treatise on God in the Summa Theologiae. Why? Either because they are not interested, or because they are not willing to make the effort to study difficult material.
This ignorance and intellectual laziness shows up in their preaching and teaching. Indeed, no few priests read or deliver canned homilies at Mass. Could they truly proclaim Christ faithfully from the heart, here and now, if called upon to do so? If the clergy can let Christ speak through them, then why do many of them serve up canned homilies downloaded off the internet? Are they hiding their lack of spiritual life from the faithful? Do they think that parishioners are so stupid or ignorant as not to detect the difference between genuine preaching in Christ and just telling cute and entertaining stories? Do these spiritually lazy members of the clergy know that they are insulting and malnourishing the souls in their care? (Because of the importance of teaching and preaching Christ in parishes, I have likened clergy who pinch homilies to married men who would send a substitute to perform “the conjugal act.”) For in reality, proclaiming Christ faithfully, in word and in deed, is the foremost spiritual act of a bishop, priest, or deacon; substitutes for Christ are not only opportunities lost, but lead to withering of the spirit in the faithful. In short, the American priesthood is not well grounded in the fundamentals of philosophy, theology, and contemplative practice. Nor do they care to be. Most priests I have observed would prefer to watch a contemporary movie than sit still and study a spiritual classic, let alone be content to be “alone with the Alone.”
2. As noted, Fr. Greeley is right to point out the anti-intellectualism rampant among American clergy. And this applies not only to deacons and priests, but sometimes to bishops. Hans Urs von Balthasar noted that few bishops in the United States are solidly grounded in theology. Those with inquiring minds in the church are suspect of being anti-Catholic, or at least a threat to the hierarchy’s monopoly of power in the church. Interviewed by one bishop to serve in his diocese, he asked me two questions: “Do you believe in the Trinity?” and “Do you believe in transubstantiation?” I wanted to say to the bishop, “Grow up,” but I refrained. Rather than laugh at the naiveté and doctrinal straight-jacket of his questions, I patiently tried to move him away from the rigid dogmatism dripping from his questions. My attempt fell on deaf ears, apparently. I do not know that he even understood what I said to him regarding “the Trinity,” nor did he ask discerning questions. Rather than let me serve as a priest in his diocese, he told some of his clergy that I was “not orthodox.” And he never extended the honest courtesy of telling me that he had in fact denied my request to work in his diocese. Politically savvy, he avoided putting his decision in writing; the man had been a lawyer before becoming a priest. As we see in the case of this bishop, so-called “orthodoxy” functions as a present-day refuge for those who do not want to think, to question, to search for truth; the “orthodox” can fall back on fixed answers, as many preachers fall back on canned homilies. That Jesus blessed inquiring minds probably escapes such bishops. Indeed, I wonder if most Catholic clergy marvel at the master of questioning portrayed in the Jesus of the canonical Gospels. Well does Christ ask us, “Who do you say that I am?” Do priests actually ponder this question, or pretend to have found “the answer”? Pope Benedict truly impressed me when he dared to ask, “Has the Church misinterpreted Jesus?” Ah! A good question! And a timely question, to which I add: Has the hierarchy misinterpreted and betrayed Christ? In any case, one finds that all too often, Catholic clergy turned off their own inquiries years ago in order to “think with the Church,” or in order to get ordained. They learned not to question, not to “think outside the box,” and merely to accept unthinkingly what they were taught. In reality, having an inquiring mind is not the way to climb the hierarchical ladder to worldly success. Questioning minds are indeed a stumbling block to churchly power. For those in positions of power like “yes-men,” not thinkers, lest their own questionable lives be examined.
3. Many Catholic priests neglect the spiritual formation of the faithful. They are far more interested in “social justice” in the sense of “changing the world” (a Marxist conception) than in embodying the pastoral attitude of the Apostle Paul: “My little children, with whom I am in labor, until Christ be formed in you” (Galatians 4). Sharing in the formation of Christ in the souls of the faithful as the parish priest’s primary goal seems utterly to have escaped many American clergy. What do they offer instead? Actually, that is a good question. What is offered up in parishes? Frankly, not much of nutritious value, based on what I have seen and heard. Too many priests squander time in handling administrative duties (tasks which should be left to lay persons), or in hiding behind stale and stultifying rituals. As a result, as noted above, many of the faithful are not receiving the spiritual and intellectual nourishment they deserve and need. Often, lay persons do not understand that and why their priests are all-too-often spiritual wastelands. In truth, these men “cannot give what they do not have.” In some cases, they put much energy into administering property well, and perhaps should have been businessmen, not pastors—not those entrusted with the care of souls. Or they may be entertaining, charming, and at best, genuinely kind and charitable, and could have been good social workers. Most pastors seem to forget—or not to have realized—that their task should be to “put themselves out of business,” to let the Holy Spirit do the work in the souls of the faithful. For we all should be matured to find suitable ways to nourish ourselves spiritually, whether the local priest is a genuine man of God, or an empty secular soul, or a walking enrobed relic of an imagined past.
4. Too many Catholic priests are not only “in the world, but of the world.” They have made their peace with our secular, “progressive” culture. Some of them mock genuine spiritual interests, or ascetical practices. The girth of many in the Catholic clergy tells a story, does it not? I recall being invited to join priests for supper in an expensive restaurant on the first Friday in Lent. Although of course the clergy had told their parishioners “you may not eat meat on Fridays in Lent,” they ordered lobster and crab legs—and at the parishioners’ expense. Surprised by such self-indulgence, I questioned them about keeping the spirit of Lent with a more frugal meal. Several of the priests told me, “Lobster is not meat.” I am reminded of the words, “What blind guides, who strain at gnats and swallow camels.” (A couple of these priests looked as though they had swallowed a camel.) Needless to say, I never joined them again for such a luxurious meal at parishioners’ expense. I learned a lesson: it is far more in the spirit of Lent—and contrary to American self-indulgence—to eat a humble hamburger than to dine sumptuously on lobster, crab, shrimp, steak…. Many priests and bishops take expensive eating and drinking as a right, if not even a clerical duty.
Priestly worldliness shows up not only in eating expensive meals, but in their consumption of alcohol—often enough, expensive wines or liquor. I’ve been with no few priests who can put away a considerable amount of spirits before eating, and then drink plenty of wine to wash down their meal; and then they walk away from the table without too much stumbling! For clearly such men are accustomed to consuming large quantities of alcohol. Some of these are alcoholics, who have been protected from exposure by brother priests for their self-destructive life-styles; others are just self-indulgent, and suffer consequences to their deteriorating health.
Regarding sexual matters, perhaps the less said, the better. In St. Benedict’s words, “It is better not even to mention what they do.” So our comments are brief. It is not only that some priests and bishops have abused children sexually, but that no few of them have shared in the cover-up of this problem over many years. This pattern has been coming to light, and is causing an enormous loss of respect for the Catholic hierarchy. What is probably less well known is how many tolerate a brother priest having a sexual partner, and keep silent about it. I shared a rectory with a priest who admitted to me having a girl friend for years, whom, he proudly told me, attended parties as his consort. He also justified having a woman in our parish as a sexual partner because “she isn’t pretty anyway.” The depravity here is evident. Then there are the actively “gay” priests. One of them said to me, “God does not care what a man does with his penis.” To that response I held up a fist to make my point, and asked him, “Does God care what a man does with his fist?” He stalked away. In these cases, the same problem of clerical secrecy and cover-up manifests itself: one priest covers for another. There is a real reluctance to see a brother priest brought to justice; on the contrary, a conspiracy of silence reigns among the clergy. There are no few members of the Catholic clergy who show little interest in seeking to live celibate and chaste lives. In the words of one actively “gay” priest, “I took a vow of celibacy, which means I cannot marry; I did not take a vow of chastity.” Self-deception and deception of others go hand in hand.
5. These remarks lead to the fundamental statement: In addition to being a spiritual wasteland, an all-too-large proportion of the Catholic clergy live as depraved and corrupt human beings. In addition to the examples of depravity just noted, suffice it to say that clerical abuse of parishioners takes various forms. The abuse of children is by no means the only kind of clerical abuse all-too-rampant in the Church. For in addition to profound spiritual neglect and sexual abuse, there are priests who apparently think nothing from stealing sizable sums of money from parish coffers. In one parish in which I served, members of the finance council and I turned into the bishop the case of a priest who had stolen, as we estimated, at least $1.5 million from parish funds. In two different conversations with the bishop, he admitted to me, “the priests feel entitled” to steal monies. Our finance council was promised that this thieving priest would never function publicly again; a few months later, he was celebrating Masses and functioning as if nothing had happened. In the eye of many parishioners, the bishop had exonerated the thief of all wrong doing. Again we see the familiar pattern: abuse or evil committed by a member of the clergy, and an attempt by other clergy members to hide the evil, to cover it up from the awareness of the faithful. Why the cover-up? As one elderly priest said to me, “In France, follow the woman; in the Church, follow the money.” There is clearly a fear that parishioners would not be so generous with donations if they knew the truth of the evils being committed by members of the clergy. Money greases the skids.
III. Concluding thoughts and questions: Is the priesthood necessary?
What lesson is to be learned here? The Catholic hierarchy has for many years tolerated degenerate and criminal behavior committed by its own members. If a lay person stole vast sums of money from the parish or from a store or bank, s/he would be turned offer to civil authorities, and after due process, probably be sent to prison. A priest is excused for crimes, which indeed are covered up so effectively than many parishioners deny the priest ever molested, or stole money, and that those who reported the crime—child abuse or theft of parish funds—are accused of concocting the story to make the priest look bad or “to hurt the Church.” (Fr. Greeley does a good job illustrating this yarn.) In reality, the molesting or thieving priest is a bad human being, should be recognized as such, and dealt with accordingly. The hierarchy’s cover-ups protect deeply corrupt and corrupting human beings, who happen to wear black clothes and clerical collars. They consider themselves to be “ordained by God” in the sense of being a favored few. Sometimes parishioners may know how flawed their priests are, and what kinds of evil they are committing, but they willingly deceive themselves, as they are deceived by the clergy. “I do not care about the character of the priest; as soon as the man stretches his hands out over the gifts on the altar, they are changed into the body and blood of Christ.” That bad men do bad things badly does not appear to dawn on such “true believers.” In many cases of clerical abuse, spiritual neglect, and grand theft, lay people are complicit through silence, and through pretending that the evil deeds were never committed. Simply stated, lay people often share in the conspiracy of silence in the face of evil. Hence, lay persons have helped to perpetuate the degree of corruption evident in the clergy today.
There may be no real solution to these problems which seem endemic in the Catholic hierarchy, which is a virtually closed, secretive society unto itself. Still, one may ask: What can be done with the Catholic priesthood to save it from itself, and to enable priests to help build up Christ in the souls of the faithful? Limiting the pool of talent qualified for priestly ordination to unmarried men who do not wish to marry and to raise families is already a large handicap. One must wonder why married men in the western Church are excluded from serving as priests in nearly all cases. Simply asked, would not some married men be able to serve well the spiritual needs of the faithful? And so could women, especially many of the sisters who already serve lovingly in the community of the faithful. Even if Rome asserts that such questions ought not be raised, one must frankly admit: the Catholic priesthood is in so much trouble, that all questions must be raised, and fresh and truthful answers sought. Nothing about the priesthood ought to be taken as eternally fixed and beyond open and searching examination.
Hence, here is a fitting concluding question: Is the priesthood necessary? Might there be better ways to nourish human beings spiritually, than to impose on the faithful in Christ so much spiritual and intellectual mediocrity, not to mention permitting some wicked human beings to masquerade as “servants of Christ”? Or can the priesthood truly undergo a spiritual, intellectual, and ethical renewal? And are lay persons in Christ willing to do their part in a renewal in the Church?
Wm. Paul McKane, OSB
3 January 2019
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