By Father Ronald Roberson, CSP
It was recently announced that Pope Francis had decided to allow Eastern Catholic bishops anywhere in the world to ordain married men to the priesthood. Previously, even if Eastern Catholic bishops in their homelands could ordain married men, this was not allowed in other parts of the world, including North America. The tradition of ordaining married men to the priesthood is very strong in the Christian East: for many centuries the norm in those churches has been that the parish priesthood is mostly married while the charism of celibacy is preserved in the monasteries and the episcopate. This tradition continued in the Eastern Churches that came into full communion with Rome beginning, for the most part, in the 16th century.
Towards the end of the 19th century increasing numbers of immigrants from eastern and central Europe came to North America. Many of them were “Greek Catholics” (at that time mostly Ukrainians and Ruthenians) who were accompanied by their married priests and their families. But the presence of such married Catholic priests in the United States caused great concern in the hierarchy, who felt that preserving the unity of their Catholic flock required uniformity in discipline, including celibacy of the clergy. Even after hearing warnings that such a decision could result in a schism among Eastern Catholics, they felt so strongly on this point that, at a meeting in 1893, the country’s Catholic archbishops unanimously adopted this resolution: “It is the solemn judgment of the Archbishops of the United States that the presence of married priests of the Greek rite in our midst is a constant menace to the chastity of our unmarried clergy, a source of scandal to the laity and therefore the sooner this point of discipline is abolished before these evils obtain large proportions, the better for religion, because the possible loss of a few souls of the Greek rite, bears no proportion to the blessings resulting from uniformity of discipline.”
Eventually the Holy See responded to repeated petitions of this type, and in first half of the 20th century issued a number of decrees that had the effect of banning the ordination of married men to the priesthood not only North America but everywhere in the world outside the traditional territories of these Eastern Catholic Churches, mostly in eastern Europe and the Middle East. True, a number of married Eastern Catholic priests have always been present in the United States and elsewhere, but virtually all of them were ordained by bishops overseas where the practice was allowed.
As the recent document lifting the ban acknowledges, the Holy See’s action resulted in as many as 200,000 Eastern Catholics leaving the Catholic Church and becoming Orthodox in order to retain their married clergy. This was a devastating loss to the Eastern Catholic communities in the United States and elsewhere. Eastern Catholics have long felt that the ban represented a great injustice, a lack of respect for their ancient traditions, and for the terms by which they entered into full communion with the Catholic Church centuries ago.
Attitudes towards this issue began to shift in the wake of the Second Vatican Council, which called for each Eastern Catholic church to “retain its traditions whole and entire” (Orientalium Ecclesiarum n. 6), and spoke of the “holy vocation” of those individuals who have received both the sacraments of marriage and priesthood (Presbyterorum Ordinis n. 16). Gradually the Catholic bishops of several countries, including Canada and Australia, went on record as having no objection to the restoration of a married Eastern Catholic priesthood. Speaking at a gathering of Eastern Catholic Bishops from around the world in Boston in November 1999, Bishop Wilton Gregory, then bishop of Belleville and vice president of the USCCB, commented on the growing acceptance of married Eastern Catholic priests, assuring them that “if in the judgment of our Eastern Catholic brothers in the episcopate such a resolution would be helpful, I believe that the bishops of the United States would give it the highest consideration.”
This question also has an ecumenical dimension. Just last June the North American Orthodox-Catholic Theological Consultation issued an agreed statement calling for a lifting of the ban. They wrote: “This action would affirm the ancient and legitimate Eastern Christian tradition, and would assure the Orthodox that, in the event of the restoration of full communion between the two Churches, the traditions of the Orthodox Church would not be questioned.”
The fact that Pope Francis has decided to allow Eastern Catholic bishops anywhere in the world to ordain worthy married men to the priesthood is a great step forward. He has recognized that the validity of Eastern Catholic traditions is not limited to certain geographical areas, but applies to those churches wherever they may be found. The Latin practice of ordaining celibate men to the priesthood remains intact and unthreatened by those observing a different tradition. The presence of an increasing number of married Eastern Catholic priests in our midst should be welcomed because “far from being an obstacle to the Church's unity, a certain diversity of customs and observances only adds to her splendor, and is of great help in carrying out her mission” (Unitatis Redintegratio, n. 16).
Father Ronald Roberson, CSP is associate director of the Secretariat for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops. He is also a consultor to the Vatican's Congregation for the Oriental Churches.
Showing posts with label celibacy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label celibacy. Show all posts
Monday, November 24, 2014
Friday, April 9, 2010
Mary Makes Newsweek
The picture of the Virgin Mary on the cover of Newsweek is good marketing since Mary resonates at a deep, almost visceral level with Catholics and even those beyond the Catholic Church. If you want a cover to stop people in their tracks at the airport or drug store, featuring Mary is a smart move.
People relate to her, like they relate to their mother, someone always there, who, in the case of an Irish mother, may even think her son comes close to being God. When you feel sorrow, you know Mary’s been there too. When you want the silent supporter, you recall her at the foot of the cross, steadfast when even that band of brothers, the apostles, had scattered. She gets the human experience.
Lisa Miller’s accompanying cover essay about women in the church doesn’t go in this direction, however. In fact, it is somewhat off-base, like facile cocktail party conversation. Observations get tossed about without scrutiny. For example, she states, wrongly, that “few women retain high-profile management jobs, such as chancellor, within dioceses.” Fact-checking proves that wrong. If you take the requirement for ordination off the table, data shows that the number of women in leadership positions in Catholic dioceses is comparable to that of the women in the U.S. workforce as a whole. One quarter of diocesan positions at the highest level, such as chancellor or chief financial officer, are held by women. You don’t find similar numbers among U.S. corporations.
Influence in the church does not depend upon ordination, though there is no doubt that it helps. The greatest impact of the Catholic Church in the United States arguably has been through its education and hospital systems, where women have taken the lead from the start. Church women also have had an impact beyond the church. Mother Teresa of Calcutta, for example, touched hearts everywhere and educated us to the extent of abject global poverty. Historically, some women even have overshadowed popes. Most educated people have heard of Teresa of Avila and Catherine of Siena. Does anyone, even the highly educated, know who the popes were when these women lived?
Lisa Miller’s article sinks into male-bashing, church-style. She notes that not everyone in the church is bad, and suggests some hope for the church, thanks to women. She scoffs churchmen just as women when alone will dis men as hopeless and helpless, etc. (and no doubt as men similarly dis women when men gather by themselves) This is good for laughs, but not to be taken seriously.
The topic de jour for media now is sexual abuse of minors by clergy. Lisa Miller’s article seems to reduce the problem to one that could be resolved by breaking open the all-male, celibate priesthood. You can’t get a more simplistic analysis than that. Statistics show that 30-40 percent of sexual abuse occurs in the home, and that’s a conservative estimate.
Thankfully the Catholic Church has not bought this quick solution line but has instead pursued serious study into the why of sexual abuse. By year’s end the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops expects to release the results of a causes and context study that it commissioned the City University of New York’s John Jay College of Criminal Justice to do.
So Newsweek asks: What would Mary do? The question is worth pondering. We don’t know a lot about her. We know she slipped off to Egypt with Joseph to protect her child from a threatening Herod. We know that with a comment, “They have no wine,” she saved the wedding feast of Cana. We know that when the bereft apostles gathered in an upper room after Jesus’ death she stood with them. She protected the innocent child, no matter the cost. She heard another’s pain and acted. She stood in solidarity. These were not grandiose displays but they were selfless acts which had a profound impact for centuries afterwards. And they got her on the cover of Newsweek too.
People relate to her, like they relate to their mother, someone always there, who, in the case of an Irish mother, may even think her son comes close to being God. When you feel sorrow, you know Mary’s been there too. When you want the silent supporter, you recall her at the foot of the cross, steadfast when even that band of brothers, the apostles, had scattered. She gets the human experience.
Lisa Miller’s accompanying cover essay about women in the church doesn’t go in this direction, however. In fact, it is somewhat off-base, like facile cocktail party conversation. Observations get tossed about without scrutiny. For example, she states, wrongly, that “few women retain high-profile management jobs, such as chancellor, within dioceses.” Fact-checking proves that wrong. If you take the requirement for ordination off the table, data shows that the number of women in leadership positions in Catholic dioceses is comparable to that of the women in the U.S. workforce as a whole. One quarter of diocesan positions at the highest level, such as chancellor or chief financial officer, are held by women. You don’t find similar numbers among U.S. corporations.
Influence in the church does not depend upon ordination, though there is no doubt that it helps. The greatest impact of the Catholic Church in the United States arguably has been through its education and hospital systems, where women have taken the lead from the start. Church women also have had an impact beyond the church. Mother Teresa of Calcutta, for example, touched hearts everywhere and educated us to the extent of abject global poverty. Historically, some women even have overshadowed popes. Most educated people have heard of Teresa of Avila and Catherine of Siena. Does anyone, even the highly educated, know who the popes were when these women lived?
Lisa Miller’s article sinks into male-bashing, church-style. She notes that not everyone in the church is bad, and suggests some hope for the church, thanks to women. She scoffs churchmen just as women when alone will dis men as hopeless and helpless, etc. (and no doubt as men similarly dis women when men gather by themselves) This is good for laughs, but not to be taken seriously.
The topic de jour for media now is sexual abuse of minors by clergy. Lisa Miller’s article seems to reduce the problem to one that could be resolved by breaking open the all-male, celibate priesthood. You can’t get a more simplistic analysis than that. Statistics show that 30-40 percent of sexual abuse occurs in the home, and that’s a conservative estimate.
Thankfully the Catholic Church has not bought this quick solution line but has instead pursued serious study into the why of sexual abuse. By year’s end the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops expects to release the results of a causes and context study that it commissioned the City University of New York’s John Jay College of Criminal Justice to do.
So Newsweek asks: What would Mary do? The question is worth pondering. We don’t know a lot about her. We know she slipped off to Egypt with Joseph to protect her child from a threatening Herod. We know that with a comment, “They have no wine,” she saved the wedding feast of Cana. We know that when the bereft apostles gathered in an upper room after Jesus’ death she stood with them. She protected the innocent child, no matter the cost. She heard another’s pain and acted. She stood in solidarity. These were not grandiose displays but they were selfless acts which had a profound impact for centuries afterwards. And they got her on the cover of Newsweek too.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Promesas rotas
Note: The following is a Spanish version of the May 15 post, "Broken Vows."
La saga mediática del padre Alberto Cutié, el sacerdote de Miami que ha admitido tener una relación sexual con una mujer, y el caso de John Edwards, cuya infidelidad está siendo expuesta por su esposa Elizabeth en su gira para promover su libro “Resilience” (Capacidad de resistencia), tienen algo en común.
Ambos casos cuentan la historia de una infidelidad. Pudiera parecer que las similitudes terminan ahí. Pero no es así.
El libro de la señora Edwards pone énfasis en los efectos de una relación fracturada sobre el otro miembro de la pareja. Dice que esto a ella la ha cambiado. La simpatía del público se ha puesto generalmente del lado de la esposa traicionada, quien está librando una batalla contra el cáncer y además perdió a un hijo adolescente en un accidente de tráfico.
En la historia del padre Cutié, sin embargo, la simpatía parece encontrarse del lado del hombre que “la ha traicionado” en lugar de aquel/los que han sido traicionados – la gente en la iglesia.
En ninguno de ambos casos se trata solamente de una historia personal de estos dos hombres. Aun sin la notoriedad pública de ambos, las dos son historias tristes que nos afectan a todos; pues, parafraseando el poema “Ningún hombre es una isla” del poeta metafísico John Donne, “La infidelidad de los demás me empobrece”.
La mayoría de las mujeres se estremece por dentro cuando escuchan acerca de la infidelidad en el matrimonio de alguien a quien conocen. El temor es obvio: si le ha sucedido a ella, también me puede suceder a mí. Es un pensamiento que pone el alma intranquila y que hace que la mujer se pregunte si se puede confiar en alguien y si ella será la última en saberlo.
La situación del padre Cutié, sin embargo, encuentra reacciones diferentes. El apuesto sacerdote con aura de estrella de Hollywood, quien se ha convertido en una industria unipersonal de publicaciones y consejos, se ha convertido, para mejor o peor, en la imagen de la última salva dirigida en contra de la Iglesia Católica.
Cutié declaró en el programa Early Show de la cadena CBS que “no quiero convertirme en el “sacerdote que está en contra del celibato”. Creo que eso es desafortunado. Creo que es un debate que se está dando en nuestra sociedad y creo que ahora yo me he convertido en una especie imagen, de abanderado de esta postura”.
Puede que el padre no quiera ser la imagen de esto, pero parece haber quebrantado la primera regla para acallar los comentarios: permanezca lejos de los medios.
A los medios de comunicación les fascinan las historias de sexo e hipocresía y, cuando ambos convergen en la historia de un sacerdote infiel, los medios no conocen fronteras. El celibato se convierte en un chiste, en lugar de algo que merece respeto; en algo imposible, a pesar de los millones —posiblemente más—de personas que han vivido célibes durante siglos.
Y sin embargo, a pesar de lo que cada uno piense sobre el celibato, el verdadero asunto aquí es la infidelidad, el haber quebrantado un voto sagrado. Esta ruptura de la fidelidad tiene impacto más allá de la pareja a la que involucra.
La fidelidad quebrantada menoscaba no sólo a la pareja sino también a la comunidad en sentido amplio. John Edwards no hirió sólo a su esposa sino también a su familia, sus amigos y las personas que lo admiraban. Sembró una sombra de duda sobre su trabajo en favor de los pobres, aunque su esposa alabe abundantemente esos esfuerzos en su libro y en la promoción mediática que lo acompaña.
El padre Cutié también ha hecho daño a otros, incluyendo a toda la gente de la parroquia que él guió tan bien. Parecen estar aguantando bien mientras tratan con los medios afuera de la iglesia. Sin embargo, uno se pregunta acerca de las parejas a las que él preparó para un compromiso de por vida en el matrimonio, los niños a los que enseñó a no decir nunca mentiras, los feligreses enfermos a los que les dio seguridad sobre su lugar en el cielo.
El efecto de la infidelidad es profundo. Elizabeth Edwards lo expresa bien en su libro cuando escribe: “Soy una persona diferente ahora. Antes no estaba herida, no tenía miedo, no sentía incertidumbre y ahora siempre los sentiré”.
Uno no puede más que desearles bien a los Edwards y al padre Cutié en vista de sus debilidades y de sus fallos. No hay nada aquí de lo que sus enemigos, en la política o en la iglesia, deban mofarse. Sólo algo que lamentar — el profundo dolor que John, Elizabeth y el Padre Alberto están experimentando en sus propias vidas y la sórdida y prolongada pena evocada en las comunidades a su alrededor.
Nadie es una isla. La fidelidad quebrantada nos duele a todos.
La saga mediática del padre Alberto Cutié, el sacerdote de Miami que ha admitido tener una relación sexual con una mujer, y el caso de John Edwards, cuya infidelidad está siendo expuesta por su esposa Elizabeth en su gira para promover su libro “Resilience” (Capacidad de resistencia), tienen algo en común.
Ambos casos cuentan la historia de una infidelidad. Pudiera parecer que las similitudes terminan ahí. Pero no es así.
El libro de la señora Edwards pone énfasis en los efectos de una relación fracturada sobre el otro miembro de la pareja. Dice que esto a ella la ha cambiado. La simpatía del público se ha puesto generalmente del lado de la esposa traicionada, quien está librando una batalla contra el cáncer y además perdió a un hijo adolescente en un accidente de tráfico.
En la historia del padre Cutié, sin embargo, la simpatía parece encontrarse del lado del hombre que “la ha traicionado” en lugar de aquel/los que han sido traicionados – la gente en la iglesia.
En ninguno de ambos casos se trata solamente de una historia personal de estos dos hombres. Aun sin la notoriedad pública de ambos, las dos son historias tristes que nos afectan a todos; pues, parafraseando el poema “Ningún hombre es una isla” del poeta metafísico John Donne, “La infidelidad de los demás me empobrece”.
La mayoría de las mujeres se estremece por dentro cuando escuchan acerca de la infidelidad en el matrimonio de alguien a quien conocen. El temor es obvio: si le ha sucedido a ella, también me puede suceder a mí. Es un pensamiento que pone el alma intranquila y que hace que la mujer se pregunte si se puede confiar en alguien y si ella será la última en saberlo.
La situación del padre Cutié, sin embargo, encuentra reacciones diferentes. El apuesto sacerdote con aura de estrella de Hollywood, quien se ha convertido en una industria unipersonal de publicaciones y consejos, se ha convertido, para mejor o peor, en la imagen de la última salva dirigida en contra de la Iglesia Católica.
Cutié declaró en el programa Early Show de la cadena CBS que “no quiero convertirme en el “sacerdote que está en contra del celibato”. Creo que eso es desafortunado. Creo que es un debate que se está dando en nuestra sociedad y creo que ahora yo me he convertido en una especie imagen, de abanderado de esta postura”.
Puede que el padre no quiera ser la imagen de esto, pero parece haber quebrantado la primera regla para acallar los comentarios: permanezca lejos de los medios.
A los medios de comunicación les fascinan las historias de sexo e hipocresía y, cuando ambos convergen en la historia de un sacerdote infiel, los medios no conocen fronteras. El celibato se convierte en un chiste, en lugar de algo que merece respeto; en algo imposible, a pesar de los millones —posiblemente más—de personas que han vivido célibes durante siglos.
Y sin embargo, a pesar de lo que cada uno piense sobre el celibato, el verdadero asunto aquí es la infidelidad, el haber quebrantado un voto sagrado. Esta ruptura de la fidelidad tiene impacto más allá de la pareja a la que involucra.
La fidelidad quebrantada menoscaba no sólo a la pareja sino también a la comunidad en sentido amplio. John Edwards no hirió sólo a su esposa sino también a su familia, sus amigos y las personas que lo admiraban. Sembró una sombra de duda sobre su trabajo en favor de los pobres, aunque su esposa alabe abundantemente esos esfuerzos en su libro y en la promoción mediática que lo acompaña.
El padre Cutié también ha hecho daño a otros, incluyendo a toda la gente de la parroquia que él guió tan bien. Parecen estar aguantando bien mientras tratan con los medios afuera de la iglesia. Sin embargo, uno se pregunta acerca de las parejas a las que él preparó para un compromiso de por vida en el matrimonio, los niños a los que enseñó a no decir nunca mentiras, los feligreses enfermos a los que les dio seguridad sobre su lugar en el cielo.
El efecto de la infidelidad es profundo. Elizabeth Edwards lo expresa bien en su libro cuando escribe: “Soy una persona diferente ahora. Antes no estaba herida, no tenía miedo, no sentía incertidumbre y ahora siempre los sentiré”.
Uno no puede más que desearles bien a los Edwards y al padre Cutié en vista de sus debilidades y de sus fallos. No hay nada aquí de lo que sus enemigos, en la política o en la iglesia, deban mofarse. Sólo algo que lamentar — el profundo dolor que John, Elizabeth y el Padre Alberto están experimentando en sus propias vidas y la sórdida y prolongada pena evocada en las comunidades a su alrededor.
Nadie es una isla. La fidelidad quebrantada nos duele a todos.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Broken Vows
The much media-hyped sagas of Father Alberto Cutié, the Miami priest who has come clean about a sexual relationship with a woman, and John Edwards, whose infidelity is being disclosed again by his wife Elizabeth on her "Resilience" book tour, have something in common.
Both tell the tales of infidelity. Similarities might seem to end there. But they don't.
Mrs. Edwards' book emphasizes the effects of a fractured relationship on a spouse. She said it changed her. Public sympathy has generally sided with the wronged wife who is battling cancer and who lost a teenage son in an auto accident.
Father Cutié's story finds sympathy, on the other hand, with the man who "done her wrong," rather than the actual one(s) wronged – the people in the church.
Neither man's story is just a personal one. Even without their notoriety, both are sad tales that affect us all. For, to paraphrase the metaphysical poet John Donne's poem "No Man Is an Island," "Everyone's infidelity diminishes me."
Most women shudder inside when they hear about infidelity in the marriage of someone they know. The obvious fear: If it happened to her, it could happen to me. It's a soul-stirring realization that makes a woman secretly question if anyone can be trusted, and makes her wonder if she'll be the last to know.
Father Cutié's plight, however, finds different reactions. The Hollywood handsome star, who has become a one-man publishing and advice-dispensing industry, has become, for better or worse, the poster boy for the latest salvo aimed at the Catholic Church.
Father Cutié declared on CBS' Early Show that "I don't want to be the anti-celibacy priest. I think that's unfortunate. I think it's a debate that's going on in our society, and now I've become kind of a poster boy for it."
Alas, he may not want to be the poster boy, but he seems to have forsaken the first rule in tamping this down: Stay off the air.
The media love a sex or hypocrisy story, and when both converge in the tale of the unfaithful padre, the media know no bounds. Celibacy becomes a joke, rather than something to be respected; an impossibility, despite millions -- likely more -- who have lived celibate lives for centuries.
Yet whatever you think about celibacy, the real story here is infidelity, not being true to a sacred vow. This fracture of fidelity has an impact on more than the pair involved.
Fractured fidelity undermines not just a couple, but their wider community. John Edwards did not just hurt his wife, but also his family, friends and people who admired him. It cast a shadow over his work for the poor, even though those efforts are much praised by his wife in her book and media jaunt.
Father Cutié has hurt people too, including the crowds surrounding the parish he led so well. They're holding up well as they mill about with media outside the church. Yet one wonders about the couples he prepared for their lifetime commitment in marriage, the children he taught to never tell a lie, the ailing parishioners he assured of their place in heaven.
The effect of infidelity is profound. Elizabeth Edwards says it well in her book when she writes, "I am a different person now. I was not wounded, not afraid, not uncertain before and now I always will be."
One wishes the Edwardses and Father Cutié well in the wake of their foibles and failings. There's nothing for political or church enemies to laugh at here. Only something to regret -- the acute pain that John, Elizabeth and Father Alberto experience in their own lives, and the dull, long-lasting pain evoked in the communities around them.
No one is an island. Fractured fidelity pains us all.
Both tell the tales of infidelity. Similarities might seem to end there. But they don't.
Mrs. Edwards' book emphasizes the effects of a fractured relationship on a spouse. She said it changed her. Public sympathy has generally sided with the wronged wife who is battling cancer and who lost a teenage son in an auto accident.
Father Cutié's story finds sympathy, on the other hand, with the man who "done her wrong," rather than the actual one(s) wronged – the people in the church.
Neither man's story is just a personal one. Even without their notoriety, both are sad tales that affect us all. For, to paraphrase the metaphysical poet John Donne's poem "No Man Is an Island," "Everyone's infidelity diminishes me."
Most women shudder inside when they hear about infidelity in the marriage of someone they know. The obvious fear: If it happened to her, it could happen to me. It's a soul-stirring realization that makes a woman secretly question if anyone can be trusted, and makes her wonder if she'll be the last to know.
Father Cutié's plight, however, finds different reactions. The Hollywood handsome star, who has become a one-man publishing and advice-dispensing industry, has become, for better or worse, the poster boy for the latest salvo aimed at the Catholic Church.
Father Cutié declared on CBS' Early Show that "I don't want to be the anti-celibacy priest. I think that's unfortunate. I think it's a debate that's going on in our society, and now I've become kind of a poster boy for it."
Alas, he may not want to be the poster boy, but he seems to have forsaken the first rule in tamping this down: Stay off the air.
The media love a sex or hypocrisy story, and when both converge in the tale of the unfaithful padre, the media know no bounds. Celibacy becomes a joke, rather than something to be respected; an impossibility, despite millions -- likely more -- who have lived celibate lives for centuries.
Yet whatever you think about celibacy, the real story here is infidelity, not being true to a sacred vow. This fracture of fidelity has an impact on more than the pair involved.
Fractured fidelity undermines not just a couple, but their wider community. John Edwards did not just hurt his wife, but also his family, friends and people who admired him. It cast a shadow over his work for the poor, even though those efforts are much praised by his wife in her book and media jaunt.
Father Cutié has hurt people too, including the crowds surrounding the parish he led so well. They're holding up well as they mill about with media outside the church. Yet one wonders about the couples he prepared for their lifetime commitment in marriage, the children he taught to never tell a lie, the ailing parishioners he assured of their place in heaven.
The effect of infidelity is profound. Elizabeth Edwards says it well in her book when she writes, "I am a different person now. I was not wounded, not afraid, not uncertain before and now I always will be."
One wishes the Edwardses and Father Cutié well in the wake of their foibles and failings. There's nothing for political or church enemies to laugh at here. Only something to regret -- the acute pain that John, Elizabeth and Father Alberto experience in their own lives, and the dull, long-lasting pain evoked in the communities around them.
No one is an island. Fractured fidelity pains us all.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Celibacy -- Fidelity: Topic de jour
Celibacy is topic de jour with the well publicized story of Miami priest whose dalliance was recorded in photos in a Spanish-language magazine. Discussing the issue, some points worth noting are that the Catholic Church’s teaching goes back to Scripture: Jesus was not married and St. Paul speaks of the significance of an “undivided heart.” (1 Cor 7 32-34)
The need for a priest’s undivided heart is paramount. At ordination priests assume a spiritual fatherhood, which means they called to be available to all. When people phone a priest they shouldn’t have to worry about imposing on his family time or taking him away from a sick child. The priest belongs to the people and his time should be theirs. Such service has been honored even in jokes. For instance, there’s the one about the Jewish man who calls a priest to his bedside on a rainy evening because “you wouldn’t call out a rabbi on a night like this!”
Priests obviously are not the only men called to think of others first and their families second. Doctors and policemen come to mind. But that choice is often hard on spouses and children who may not have the same sense of vocation. It's one thing to be selfless for one self. It's quite another to expect your loved ones to be so as well.
Another issue shining through today’s news reports is fidelity to a commitment. Lifetime commitments are respected by the church, whether it is a man’s promise of celibacy in the priesthood or a man or woman promising fidelity in marriage. Both commitments are entered into freely and, hopefully, with aforethought. It is painful to everyone involved when someone abandons a commitment. Like it or not, we all find inspiration in the commitments we see around us. To paraphrase John Donne, everyone’s fractured commitment diminishes me. That’s why wives grow anxious when they see infidelity. Elizabeth Edwards is example number one with her Resilience book tour.
People often point out that in the Eastern Rite churches, priests can marry, but it is worth noting they cannot marry once ordained. And when it comes to selecting their bishops, the Eastern churches choose bishops from among their celibate clergy. It’s more testimony to what the church sees as needed in its leadership, the spiritual fathers with an undivided heart.
Celibacy is not a matter of dogma; it’s a matter of discipline. Dogma is a matter of faith; a discipline is something put into place because it has a tangible, practical value in the life of the church here and now. Thus, theoretically it’s possible that the rule of celibacy could change. Whether or not it should will be discussed for a long time. Meanwhile, there’s no denying the benefit of celibacy to the church and society around it.
The need for a priest’s undivided heart is paramount. At ordination priests assume a spiritual fatherhood, which means they called to be available to all. When people phone a priest they shouldn’t have to worry about imposing on his family time or taking him away from a sick child. The priest belongs to the people and his time should be theirs. Such service has been honored even in jokes. For instance, there’s the one about the Jewish man who calls a priest to his bedside on a rainy evening because “you wouldn’t call out a rabbi on a night like this!”
Priests obviously are not the only men called to think of others first and their families second. Doctors and policemen come to mind. But that choice is often hard on spouses and children who may not have the same sense of vocation. It's one thing to be selfless for one self. It's quite another to expect your loved ones to be so as well.
Another issue shining through today’s news reports is fidelity to a commitment. Lifetime commitments are respected by the church, whether it is a man’s promise of celibacy in the priesthood or a man or woman promising fidelity in marriage. Both commitments are entered into freely and, hopefully, with aforethought. It is painful to everyone involved when someone abandons a commitment. Like it or not, we all find inspiration in the commitments we see around us. To paraphrase John Donne, everyone’s fractured commitment diminishes me. That’s why wives grow anxious when they see infidelity. Elizabeth Edwards is example number one with her Resilience book tour.
People often point out that in the Eastern Rite churches, priests can marry, but it is worth noting they cannot marry once ordained. And when it comes to selecting their bishops, the Eastern churches choose bishops from among their celibate clergy. It’s more testimony to what the church sees as needed in its leadership, the spiritual fathers with an undivided heart.
Celibacy is not a matter of dogma; it’s a matter of discipline. Dogma is a matter of faith; a discipline is something put into place because it has a tangible, practical value in the life of the church here and now. Thus, theoretically it’s possible that the rule of celibacy could change. Whether or not it should will be discussed for a long time. Meanwhile, there’s no denying the benefit of celibacy to the church and society around it.
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