The Diaconate and the Synod: Minding the Gap

Deacon William T. Ditewig, Ph.D.

[Posted here with permission. It will be published in the next issue of OSV’s The Deacon.]

This essay is, in many ways, a kind of lament. Many of us have written extensively on the disappointing and even disheartening lack of deacons in attendance at the first General Assembly of the Synod either as participants or as theological or canonical consultants. As hurtful as it is, we must certainly continue in our wonderful and grace-filled ministry to those most in need around us. To grieve over missed opportunities does not relieve us of those obligations.

My mentor at the Catholic University of America, Father Joseph A. Komonchak, has written and spoken often of the gap between the glorious words we sometimes use to describe the Church, and the reality of the Church as many people experience it. He wrote, “If there is a single question that has haunted me for the forty years that I have now been teaching ecclesiology, it concerns the relationship between the glorious things that are said in the Bible and in the tradition about the Church – ‘Gloriosa dicta sunt de te, civitas Dei!’ (Ps 86:3) – and the concrete community of limited and sinful men and women who gather as the Church at any time or place all around the world.” He described how people’s eyes “seemed to glaze over when someone spoke of the ‘Mystical Body of Christ’ or ‘Mother Church’ or ‘Bride.’ Theologians might have found it interesting to explore such notions, but what could they have to do with the people in the pew?” In this essay, then, we will “mind the gap” between those “gloriosa dicta” about the diaconate along with the frequent “de profundis” (Ps 130:1) sometimes experienced by the Church’s deacons.

Ah, the gloriosa dicta!

Throughout the patristic literature we find repeated references to the deacon serving “in the very ministry of Christ,” that the relationship of the deacon and bishop should be like the relationship between God the Father and God the Son, and that the deacon should be the eyes and ears, heart of soul of the bishop, that deacon and bishop should be like “one soul in two bodies.”

In our own time, we have the language of Vatican II, which includes the statement that diaconal duties are “ad vitam Ecclesiae summopere necessaria” – supremely necessary to the life of the Church. The Council continues by describing the diaconate itself as “a proper and permanent grade of the hierarchy.”

Moving beyond the Council, popes and theologians continued to say glorious things about the diaconate. Pope Paul VI referred to the diaconate as the “driving force” for the Church’s service, and Pope St. John Paul II repeated that description before adding that the diaconate is “the Church’s service sacramentalized.” Church documents and the work of contemporary theologians built on that language, using terms like “the deacon is an icon of Christ the Servant”, while James Barnett’s classic work on the diaconate refers to us as a “full and equal order.” Another early text even makes the claim that, “A parish, which is a local incarnation of Church and of Jesus, is not sacramentally whole if it is without either priest or deacon.”

Such marvelous and glorious and humbling words! A lexicon of service to inspire and drive the diakonia of the Church!

But then, de profundis….

But is this how deacons experience things in their daily exercise of ministry? Is this how the lived reality reflects these glorious words? Is this how our parishioners and fellow ministers, lay and ordained, see us? If it is, praise God! If it isn’t, what can we do, as the English say, to “mind the gap” between theory and practice? Deacons are happy and fulfilled in their various ministries, while at the same time, there are stories of presbyters, religious, and laity who do not seem to “get” the diaconate and even, in some cases, are antagonistic toward it. Deacons report instances where pastors “don’t want” the bishop to assign a deacon to the parish, and still other cases where deacons are accused of perpetuating clericalism in the Church. Still others have been told that “the diaconate isn’t a true vocation.” In short, the gap between the gloriosa dicta of theory and the de profundis of praxis is, in many cases, wide and deep. And so we come to the question: how might we close the gap?

Enter the Synod on Synodality.

What an opportunity for representatives of all God’s People to gather and discern together the future of the Church! But when the time came to assemble for the 16^th Ordinary Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, where were the deacons?

Certainly, the Synod Secretariat faced a massive challenge: ensuring participants and consultants representing the universal Church in all its richness of laity, religious, and clergy. Delegates were chosen by episcopal conferences, from the Eastern Catholic Churches, selected leaders from the Roman Curia, and 120 delegates personally selected by Pope Francis. In total, 363 people were voting members, including 54 women. In addition to the voting members, 75 additional participants acted as facilitators, experts, or spiritual assistants. Wonderful!

And one deacon. (Actually, two: one was from Syria about to be ordained to the presbyterate.)

There were other lacunae. Many observers noted the lack of parish priests, the poor, and even the lack of substantive influence of the assembled theological consultants when contrasted with the influence of the periti at the Second Vatican Council. But nowhere was the inequity more glaring than that of the diaconate. Imagine a group of men calling a meeting to talk about women, but with no women present. Imagine a meeting about the priesthood, with no priests participating. And imagine a meeting about the diaconate with no deacons. In a choir, each singer has their own voice, and yet each one must listen to the others to form beautiful harmony. If the Church were a choir, the same applies: everyone would have a voice, while listening to all the other voices. Deacons have been told, in glorious terms, that they are part of the choir. But, in terms of the Synod, they have no voice. In a choir, is it better to talk about a tenor or to hear one? In the church, is it better to talk about deacons, or to hear them?

Someone seems to be listening, at least about the lack of parish priests at the Synod. The Synod Secretariat has announced recently an extraordinary 5-day gathering of some 300 priests convening in late April. According to the Secretariat, this is to respond to the desire of the Synod participants to “develop ways for a more active involvement of deacons, priests, and bishops in the synodal process during the coming year. A synodal Church cannot do without their voices, their experiences, and their contribution.” The announced gathering is therefore good news. But once again the question recurs: Where is the gathering of the deacons?

Once again, there is the gap between glorious words and actual practice. When you tell someone that they are valued and that “their voices, their experiences, and their contribution” are vital, and then do nothing to open the door to those voices, why should the nice words be believed? To be excluded again, after the gap is pointed out, feels hurtful and dismissive, conveying clearly that deacons have no voice worth hearing, no experience worth sharing, and no insights to give or to receive. It sends the clear message that deacons are unnecessary, with nothing to contribute. The gap between “gloriosa dicta” and “de profundis” remains.

In conclusion, what may be done? Some will rightly say that none of this impedes our responsibility to care humbly for others and that we do not need a seat at the Synodal tables. I fully affirm the first part of that claim. But serving does not mean we should not also have a share in the Synodal process. As I have suggested elsewhere, perhaps one course of action might be to have conversations within our own parishes and dioceses and pass those insights along to our bishops. Perhaps theologians and canonists might direct the results of their research on the diaconate to the Synod Secretariat for their use. No matter what we do, however, we must do everything we can to bridge the gap between words and actions. As heralds of the Gospel, we can do no less.

Deacons and the Synod, Part Two: A Path Forward

Jul24

My recent essay on the apparent lack of deacons at the upcoming Assembly of the Synod on Synodality caused some interesting responses. First, I was informed by an authoritative source that “deacons” would indeed be a part of the Assembly, just none from North America. However, in the succeeding days, it seems that only one deacon (from Europe) has been identified as a participant. This was discovered only because he came forward and identified himself. The official list of participants identified other clergy as presbyters or bishops; the deacon was simply listed without any indication that he was a deacon. It should also be mentioned that well over half of the world’s 50,000 deacons live and minister in North America. Not to include some kind of deacon participation from all the continental synodal regions, including participation from North America, is a missed opportunity.

Active participation by the world’s deacons would be a two-fold benefit. First, the Assembly could consider the various questions of the Instrumentum Laboris through the lens of ministers whose very raison d’etre is to be the “eyes, ears, heart, and soul” of the bishop, identifying the needs of the church and the world, and providing servant leadership to meet those needs. Their experience could be invaluable. Second, and perhaps even more important, deacons would be able to listen and learn, through the Assembly process, from the wisdom and insights of the rest of the participants. As I noted in the previous essay, every other conceivable group is included in the “guest list”: lay women and men, women and men religious, bishops, presbyters, youth, and scholars. These fortunate people will share and learn, reflect, and discern together the “joys, hopes, griefs and anxieties of the people of this age” (Gaudium et Spes, #1).

Other respondents to my essay, both clergy and laity, reacted variously. Some simply agreed that not having deacons at the Assembly was a serious shortcoming that should be corrected. Others just rolled their eyes, shrugged their shoulders, and pointed out that this exclusion is nothing new, that deacons are often overlooked at every level of Church life: parish, deanery, diocese, and universally. Still others wrote that such an absence was really a good thing. That, as deacons, we are called to remain with the marginalized and the poor who were also not invited to the Assembly. Other deacons agreed that it was a good thing we are not there, so we can simply continue to focus on the immediate and practical needs of the people we serve. A French deacon wrote an article for La Croix International, in his own cri de coeur (“Priests Should Stop Pushing Deacons to One Side”) published on 20 July, which reminds us that experiences of diaconal marginalization are not focused on any particular region of the world.

This brief essay attempts two things. First, to sketch why I believe it is a most unfortunate oversight and a lost opportunity not to have the intentional participation of deacons at the Assembly. Second, since we are not in a position to change this situation, I want to offer a few suggestions on how deacons might still participate, even unofficially, in the Assembly and the subsequent steps in the synodal process.

Why should deacons be at the assembly? Why not?

Let’s first consider why deacons should not be at the Assembly. They should not be there from a sense of clericalism or entitlement: “We’re ordained so we should be represented.” No one has a right to be at the Assembly on such terms. The argument for participation is not based on clericalism, power, or ego.

So why should they be there? Deacons should be there because Pope Francis said so. He has emphasized that the current synodal path is “an exercise in mutual listening. I want to emphasize this. It is an exercise of mutual listening, conducted at all levels of the Church and involving the entire People of God.” Though unnamed, the diaconate is certainly part of “the entire People of God”! Deacons should be at the Assembly precisely because the pope wants “all levels of the Church” involved. Yet most lists related to the Synod are silent on the diaconate. Not so about any other group in the Church: but deacons are not mentioned. Why would this be?

There seem to be several possible explanations, none of them good. First, the order of deacons might be misperceived as a minor form of the priesthood and therefore included within the presbyterate. Ecclesiology has long since demonstrated that deacons “are not ordained unto the priesthood,” and do not participate in the ministerial priesthood. Unfortunately, too many people still see the diaconate merely as an “apprentice model” of the priesthood. It most certainly is not. Second, and equally problematic would be the opposite misunderstanding that deacons are simply some kind of “super-laity” and therefore need not be numbered among the clergy. Many deacons still encounter this mistaken notion, even among priests. Third, it could be that, even after more than fifty years since the diaconate’s renewal, it has simply not captured the ecclesial imagination; simply put, deacons don’t easily fit into many people’s categories of ordained ministry.

Church teaching has no such ambiguity. The Second Vatican Council refers to the sacramental grace of Holy Orders as applied to the diaconate: “For strengthened by sacramental grace, in communion with the bishop and his group of priests they serve in a diaconate of liturgy, of word, and of charity to the people of God” [Lumen gentium #29]. The same text refers to the functions of the diaconate as “supremely necessary” in the life of the Church. In the 1998 Directory for the Ministry and Life of Permanent Deacons [DMLPD], the Congregation for Clergy stated, “The origin of the diaconate is the consecration and mission of Christ, in which the deacon is called to share. Through the imposition of hands and the prayer of consecration, he is constituted a sacred minister and a member of the hierarchy. This condition determines his theological and juridical status in the Church” [DMLPD, #1]. In a particularly striking passage, the Congregation taught:

In every case it is important, however, that deacons fully exercise their ministry, in preaching, in the liturgy and in charity to the extent that circumstances permit. They should not be relegated to marginal duties, be made merely to act as substitutes, nor discharge duties normally entrusted to non-ordained members of the faithful. Only in this way will the true identity of permanent deacons as ministers of Christ become apparent and the impression avoided that deacons are simply lay people particularly involved in the life of the Church.

In short, the diaconate is not an optional, “nice-to-have” volunteer organization. As St. John Paul II taught frequently, “The diaconate is not a job; it is a vocation.”

A Unique Vocation

The tradition of the Church has always maintained that deacons have a unique character, related to but distinct from the presbyterate. And the most ancient sources emphasize the relationship that should exist between the deacon and the bishop, with the deacon serving as the bishop’s “eyes, ears, heart, and soul.” This is demonstrated during the deacon’s ordination when, from time immemorial, only the bishop lays hands on the ordinand. In the ordinations of presbyters, all priests present lay hands on the new priests; for new bishops, all bishops present lay hands on their new brothers. Not so with the deacon. The deacon is focused uniquely on the bishop.

The deacon is ordained to participate in his own way in the three-fold ministry of the bishop: Word, Sacrament, and Charity. The entire Church is called to be a servant church, a diaconal church. Pope Paul VI repeatedly taught that deacons are to be “the animators of the Church’s service,” and St. John Paul II carried it a step further when he referred to the diaconate as “the Church’s service sacramentalized.” He would later recall:

A particularly felt need in the decision to re-establish the permanent diaconate was and is that of the greater and more direct presence of ministers of the Church in the various environments of the family, work, school, etc., as well as in the established pastoral structures.
John Paul II General Audience, “Deacons Serve the Kingdom of God,” 6 October 1993

Deacons are called to feed the hungry, but also to address the cause of that hunger. Deacons are advocates for those who are voiceless; defenders of those who are powerless. As Father Joseph Komonchak once said, “Vatican II didn’t renew the diaconate because of a shortage of priests, but because of a shortage of deacons.” He was right then, and the need persists today. Certainly, there is a shortage of deacons at the Assembly!

Therefore, deacons should be active participants throughout the whole synodal process for two critical reasons, alluded to above. First, since deacons have a “greater and more direct presence” in the lives of the faithful they serve at home, in schools, the workplace, and in their professions, they can bring this pastoral experience and the needs of the people to the Assembly table. Second, deacons should be present to listen, share in the process of discernment, and learn from the other participants. The “agenda” of the deacon’s service is determined by the needs of others.

Deacons: How to Participate From Home

Since deacons are not currently on the guest list for the Assembly as of this writing (with one exception), how can we still contribute to the process? Consider the following suggestions, and feel free to add to the list!.

Follow the progress of the Assembly through the media. Don’t trust unofficial sources. Follow the releases from the Holy See.
Study the Instrumentum Laboris. Here’s a link to it. How do you respond to these issues and questions yourself?
Deacon Directors or other leaders in the diaconal community: Consider having weekly sessions (perhaps via ZOOM) for the deacon community to discuss the highlights of the past week.
Perhaps pastors and deacons might do something similar for the parish.
in opening the Synod, Pope Francis spoke of the three-fold focus of communion, participation, and mission. He pointed out that “the words ‘communion’ and ‘mission’ can risk remaining somewhat abstract, unless we cultivate an ecclesial praxis that expresses the concreteness of synodality at every step of our journey and activity, encouraging real involvement on the part of each and all. Here is where deacons can be particularly helpful. As the Assembly progresses, deacons can discuss the practical realities of implementing the issues being discussed.

In short, even though we won’t be in the Assembly itself, we can still be active in our response to it. In doing so, we should attend to the three potential risks identified by Pope Francis: formalism, intellectualism, and complacency. His words speak for themselves.

The first is formalism. The Synod could be reduced to an extraordinary event, but only externally; that would be like admiring the magnificent facade of a church without ever actually stepping inside. . . . If we want to speak of a synodal Church, we cannot remain satisfied with appearances alone; we need content, means and structures that can facilitate dialogue and interaction within the People of God, especially between priests and laity. Why do I insist on this? Because sometimes there can be a certain elitism in the presbyteral order that detaches it from the laity; the priest ultimately becomes more a “landlord” than a pastor of a whole community as it moves forward. This will require changing certain overly vertical, distorted and partial visions of the Church, the priestly ministry, the role of the laity, ecclesial responsibilities, roles of governance and so forth.

Can we deacons help in developing the “content, means, and structures” Pope Francis mentions? What would this mean in your parish or other ministries? What about the elitism he mentions? He specifically refers to the priesthood; are we able to help in addressing that? And, we should also address similar elitism that may be present in our own order.

A second risk is intellectualism. Reality turns into abstraction and we, with our reflections, end up going in the opposite direction. This would turn the Synod into a kind of study group, offering learned but abstract approaches to the problems of the Church and the evils in our world. The usual people saying the usual things, without great depth or spiritual insight, and ending up along familiar and unfruitful ideological and partisan divides, far removed from the reality of the holy People of God and the concrete life of communities around the world.

Here is where deacons can offer special help. Given our lifestyles, we live, work, and minister in the midst of the laity in a way other clergy may not be able to. While we can still fall into the trap of intellectualism, it is more than likely that we will get called out on it by our friends, families, and neighbors. We need concrete approaches to today’s problems, and we are in a good position to do that.

Finally, the temptation of complacency, the attitude that says: “We have always done it this way” (Evangelii Gaudium, 33) and it is better not to change. That expression – “We have always done it that way” – is poison for the life of the Church. Those who think this way, perhaps without even realizing it, make the mistake of not taking seriously the times in which we are living. The danger, in the end, is to apply old solutions to new problems.

Let’s face it: it’s easy to fall into this trap of complacency. Our secular experience already tells us this can be deadly. We need to guard against it within the Church as well. Deacons are uniquely positioned to be a guardrail against all these risks.

Conclusion

I believe that the best way for deacons to proceed at this point is to become, if we are not already, active supporters of every aspect of the synodal process. This is a critical moment in the life of the Church, and the call to animate the Church’s diakonia remains, wherever we are.

Pray, serve, study, create, exhort, hope, and love. Repeat!

Catholics and Immigration: Kneading the Dough with Pope Francis

Feb22

INTRODUCTION

Few topics have so occupied the fears and attention of so many in recent months than the issue of immigration. I almost wrote “in the United States” but caught myself in time: this is a global phenomenon, which some observers state is at its worst since 1945 and the end of the Second World War. The United Nations Refugee Agency reports that there are 21.3 million refugees in the world, of which 10 million are reported as “stateless”; only 107,100 were resettled in 2015. Almost 34,000 people PER DAY are forced to leave their homes, and of those 21.3 million refugees, more than half are under the age of 18. Check out some additional statistics here.

Yesterday, Pope Francis addressed the International Forum on “Migration and Peace.” You can — and should! — read the whole text here. Immigration has been a constant concern for this Holy Father since his election (all you have to do is Google “Pope Francis and Immigration” to see his many statements on the subject), but it is also a concern he’s shared with his predecessors and, indeed, the papal magisterium is reflecting longstanding principles of Catholic social teaching. In short, the pope’s concerns are migrants-and-pope-francis-2 nothing new, although he has been particularly passionate in reminding the world of the moral principles involved.

In my last blog post, I repeated the teaching of the Second Vatican Council that we are supposed to be “a leaven and kind of soul” for society. This means that we are immersed in the messy dough of human existence, helping each other find God in the rising. In this post, I want to summarize and review the pope’s most recent teaching with a view toward how we might implement its provisions in our own concrete circumstances, our own doughy mess.

I should also point out that the pope has repeatedly re-affirmed the right, duty and obligation that countries have to protect their citizens. Nothing he promotes would ever deny that, although some commentators have suggested this. However, as we will see, legitimate measures to protect society at large must still take into account the moral obligations we have to all people and not simply our own citizens.

Finally, we realize that whenever any pope teaches on a volatile subject, such as immigration, reactions range from enthusiastic support to enthusiastic disagreement. This instance is no different, which critics opining that the pope has no business talking about these things. On the contrary, the pope has every obligation to address matters of faith and morals, perhaps most especially because people need to hear it even when they don’t want to, or when it makes them feel uncomfortable. Just as parents must speak truth to their children even when the children don’t like it, so too religious leaders (not only the pope!) must be prophetic even when unpopular.

THE ADDRESS OF POPE FRANCIS

The outline of the pope’s address yesterday is a powerful statement in itself. With seven major points, the pope offers an outline for pastoral action. The pope observes:

Migration, in its various forms, is not a new phenomenon in humanity’s history. It has left its mark on every age, encouraging encounter between peoples and the birth of new civilizations. In its essence, to migrate is the expression of that inherent desire for the happiness proper to every human being, a happiness that is to be sought and pursued. For us Christians, all human life is an itinerant journey towards our heavenly homeland. . . . Contemporary movements of migration represent the largest movement of individuals, if not of peoples, in history.”

Francis therefore speaks of an “urgency for a coordinated and effective response to these challenges,” a response marked by four verbs: to welcome, to protect, to promote and integrate. After he discusses each them, he continues that we need to “conjugate these four verbs in the first person singular [‘I welcome, I protect, I promote, I integrate’] and in the first person plural [‘We welcome, we protect, we promote, we integrate’]. In this way we discover our own responsibility, our own duty, “a duty we have towards our brothers and sisters who, for various reasons, have been forced to leave their homeland: a duty of justice, of civility and of solidarity.”

Let’s take a closer look at each of these four responses with their related duties.

To Welcome

Francis pulls no punches, speaking of a rejection of others that is “rooted ultimately in self-centeredness and amplified by populist rhetoric.” What is needed, he says, is a change of attitude which overcomes indifference and counters fears. A changed attitude will be generous in welcoming those “who knock at our doors.”

For those who flee conflicts and terrible persecutions, often trapped within the grip of criminal organisations who have no scruples, we need to open accessible and secure humanitarian channels. A responsible and dignified welcome of our brothers and sisters begins by offering them decent and appropriate shelter. The enormous gathering together of persons seeking asylum and of refugees has not produced positive results. Instead these gatherings have created new situations of vulnerability and hardship. More widespread programs of welcome, already initiated in different places, seem to favor a personal encounter and allow for greater quality of service and increased guarantees of success.

In the first person singular, then, how am I welcoming the stranger? Not in some general, theoretical and antiseptic way, but in a concrete, leaven-in-the-dough way. In the first person plural, how do we join together in groups, parishes, and communities (and not simply in governmental ways) to initiate, support and sustain “more widespread programs of welcome”?

To Protect

Pope Francis cites his predecessor, Pope Benedict, who stressed that migration makes people “more vulnerable to exploitation, abuse and violence.” Pope Francis builds on this teaching by referring to our need to protect the dispossessed:

Defending their inalienable rights, ensuring their fundamental freedoms and respecting their dignity are duties from which no one can be exempted. Protecting these brothers and sisters is a moral imperative which translates into

— adopting juridical instruments, both international and national, that must be clear and relevant;

— implementing just and far reaching political choices;

— prioritizing constructive processes, which perhaps are slower, over immediate results of consensus;

— implementing timely and humane programs in the fight against “the trafficking of human flesh” which profits off others’ misfortune;

— coordinating the efforts of all actors, among which, you may be assured will always be the Church.

Turning again to my/our personal responsibility: in what specific ways can I help in any or all of these areas of protection? Perhaps I can’t do much alone, but I can at least join my efforts with those of others. And, if there is nothing in our community, perhaps I can initiate something.

To Promote

To welcome and to protect is not sufficient, according to Pope Francis, who turns to the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, which describes human development as “an undeniable right of every human being.” This is not a right granted by a government or an agency, but by God.

As such, it must be guaranteed by ensuring the necessary conditions for its exercise, both in the individual and social context, providing fair access to fundamental goods for all people and offering the possibility of choice and growth. Also here a coordinated effort is needed, one which envisages all the parties involved: from the political community to civil society, from international organizations to religious institutions. . . . Efforts must be encouraged that lead to the implementation of programs of international cooperation, free from partisan interests, and programs of transnational development which involve migrants as active protagonists.

The Holy Father stresses that such rights ought first to be guaranteed in a person’s place of origin, but if they are not, people must be free it emigrate to places where they will find this opportunity. How do I work now to guarantee to rights of all persons who are here, both citizens and non-citizens alike, but all human persons created in the image and likeness of God, and all endowed with the same human rights? What could I be doing that I’m not? What could we do together, perhaps as a parish community, to contribute to this effort?

To Integrate

The pope teaches that integration is a two-way process “rooted essentially in the joint recognition of the other’s cultural richness: it is not the superimposing of one culture over another, nor mutual isolation, with the insidious and dangerous risk of creating ghettoes.” Those who come to a new country must be open to the culture of the new country, “respecting above all its laws.”

Citing Pope John Paul II, Pope Francis highlights the responsibility toward the family in the process of integration, citing John Paul’s message that policies must be developed that “favor and benefit the reunion of families.” In addition, again citing John Paul II, proper integration “requires specific programs which foster significant encounters with others. Furthermore: for Christians:

The peaceful integration of persons of various cultures is, in some way, a reflection of its catholicity, since unity, which does not nullify ethnic and cultural diversity, constitutes a part of the life of the Church, who in the Spirit of Pentecost is open to all and desires to embrace all.

Perhaps these last two areas are the more challenging of the four in practical application. So often, our policies regarding displaced persons involve screening and “vetting” and are less concerned (if at all) in how we might “promote and integrate” our sisters and brothers. In what concrete ways can I serve to help with this integration? Perhaps I can help with the process of reuniting families; perhaps our parish might sponsor families who have been apart, and help bring them together again.

Here is where Pope Francis challenges us all further, speaking of three duties or obligations related to welcoming, protecting, promoting, and integrating. These are the duty of JUSTICE, the duty of CIVILITY, and the duty of SOLIDARITY.

Justice

The pope points out:

We can no longer sustain unacceptable economic inequality. . . .We are all called to undertake processes of apportionment which are respectful, responsible and inspired by the precepts of distributive justice. . . . One group of individuals cannot control half of the world’s resources. We cannot allow for persons and entire peoples to have a right only to gather the remaining crumbs.

Justice demands that we see with God’s eyes: how does God see his children who are homeless and searching? We can do no less. How would we feel if we found our own children abandoned, abused, homeless and hungry? Suddenly those verbs of welcome, protection, promotion and integration become very personal. They are just as “personal” for God!

Furthermore, popes Francis and Benedict teach that justice challenges us to break down stereotypes:

Ensuring justice means also reconciling history with our present globalized situation, without perpetuating mind-sets which exploit people and places, a consequence of the most cynical use of the market in order to increase the well-being of the few. As Pope Benedict affirmed, the process of decolonization was delayed “both because of new forms of colonialism and continued dependence on old and new foreign powers, and because of grave irresponsibility within the very countries that have achieved independence.”

2. Civility

Civility means so much more than simply being “polite”! Francis again cites St. John Paul II: “an irregular legal status cannot allow the migrant to lose his dignity, since he is endowed with inalienable rights, which can neither be violated nor ignored.” Civility helps us to appreciate the value of the very relational nature of the human person in which every person is “a true sister and brother; without fraternity it is impossible to build a just society and a solid and lasting peace.”

biblical-justice 3. Solidarity

Evoking the book of Genesis, the pope reminds us of God’s question of Cain: “Where is your brother?” We are one with our sisters and brothers, and what affects her or him, affects me.

Solidarity is born precisely from the capacity to understand the needs of our brothers and sisters who are in difficulty and to take responsibility for these needs. Upon this, in short, is based the sacred value of hospitality, present in religious traditions. For us Christians, hospitality offered to the weary traveler is offered to Jesus Christ himself, through the newcomer: “I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (Mt 25:35).

Finally, in language easily recognizable in our contemporary Western culture, the teaches:

The duty of solidarity is to counter the throwaway culture and give greater attention to those who are weakest, poorest and most vulnerable. Thus “a change of attitude towards migrants and refugees is needed on the part of everyone, moving away from attitudes of defensiveness and fear, indifference and marginalization – all typical of a throwaway culture – towards attitudes based on a culture of encounter, the only culture capable of building a better, more just and fraternal world” (Message for the World Day of Migrants and Refugees, 5 August 2013).

CONCLUSION

So, I suggest we prayerfully consider what the pope has to say as we Americans confront the challenges of immigration policies under the current administration. In particular, how can each and every one of us — individually and communally — tale on the responsibility to welcome, to protect, to promote, and to integrate? How well can we respond to these initiatives from a sense of justice, civility, and solidarity?

Here’s the dough: let’s get our hands messy.

kneading-dough

Terrorism, Dachau and Diaconate: Perspectives and PBS

Jul17

INTRODUCTION

12172xl As I write this, reports are coming in from Baton Rouge about yet another attack with multiple casualties. The world is reeling from the endless chain of violence and death of recent months. On Friday, the PBS series Religion and Ethics Newsweekly ran a program on the Order of Deacons in the Catholic Church. Given the state of the world, one might think this an odd or even irrelevant topic. Upon reflection, however, I believe that there are some important dots to connect. It is precisely because of the current state of violent death, destruction and havoc that the diaconate — properly understood — might offer a glimmer of hope. After all, it was precisely because of the “abyss of violence, destruction and death unlike anything previously known” (John Paul II, referring to World Word II) that the Order of Deacons was renewed in the first place; we’re here to help do something about it. So we shall review the PBS story against that critical backdrop.

THE PBS PROGRAM: Religion & Ethics Newsweekly

First, watch the program or read the transcript for yourself; you may find both of them here. The diaconate is not often covered in the media, so this could have been a wonderful opportunity to spread the word about a remarkable ministry. Unfortunately, despite very obvious good intentions, the program was full of errors ranging from simple errors of fact to more serious, even egregious, errors of history and theology. Furthermore, a wonderful opportunity was missed to connect the “concrete consequences” which the diaconate might offer a hurting world.

The Mistakes

Why focus on some of the errors made in the program? First, simply to get them identified and out of the way. Second and more important, it is crucial to dispel such errors because they can distort the meaning of the diaconate and distract the audience from its proper potential.

“He’s a married layman.” This simple error of fact is made twice at the very beginning of the report. Of course this is simply not true. Deacons are clergy and not laymen. For those of us who live and teach about the diaconate, this is usually the first red flag that the rest of the discussion is not going to go well. Why is this distinction important? Back to that in a moment.
“Celebrating Mass is a function reserved only for priests who are considered heirs to the original apostles.” In Catholic theology, of course, the “heirs” or “successors” of the apostles are bishops, not priests.
“[The deacon] did have to step in recently to speak the words of consecration at communion – for Catholics the most sacred part of the Mass. That’s because his pastor is on leave, and the priest filling in doesn’t speak English.” This is terribly wrong on several levels. First, the deacon can be seen and heard praying part of the Eucharistic Prayer, which is absolutely reserved to priests alone. The priest in question should have just said the prayer in his native language, whatever it is. For years, Catholics of the Latin Rite celebrated Mass in Latin: no one stood next to the priest to translate the Latin for us. Not only did the deacon not “have to step in” to do such a thing, church law expressly forbids it. Canon 907 states: “In the eucharistic celebration deacons and lay persons are not permitted to offer prayers, especially the eucharistic prayer, or to perform actions which are proper to the celebrating priest.” My guess is that every deacon who saw that part of the segment is still cringing! (The other cringe-worthy tidbit was seeing the deacon improperly vested, wearing his stole on the outside of his dalmatic. How cringe-worthy ? Think wearing underclothing over your pants).
“In the Middle Ages the role of deacons began to fade as the power of priests and bishops grew. In the 1960s, the Second Vatican Council restored the role of deacons – but only for men.” The evolving role of deacons throughout history is far more complicated than that, and overlooks the fact that the diaconate never completely disappeared, but became primarily a stepping stone to the priesthood. I fully acknowledge that the history of the diaconate in all of its complexity goes far beyond what can be covered in such a brief program, but still: the broad brush strokes of the history could have been recognized and acknowledged. This is also when the program shifts to the question of the possibility of ordaining women as deacons. I will deal with that question below.
“Until recently, the wives of deacons were required to take the same classes over four years as their husbands did to prepare for the diaconate.” Here the reporter falls victim to a common danger when discussing the diaconate: extrapolation. There are nearly 200 Catholic dioceses in the United States, and the procedures and processes of formation vary greatly from place to place. National standards established by the US Bishops do not mandate such a requirement, although wives are definitely encouraged to participate to the extent possible so that the couple grows together throughout the formation process. Even the “until recently” is confusing: perhaps in that particular diocese something has changed, but not in all. Not every wife of every deacon candidate is required to write papers or attend classes. Like many things in the renewed diaconate, it varies by location and bishop. But even more important — and completely left out of the piece — is the question of vocation. Preparing for ordination is far more than taking classes, writing papers, and giving practice homilies. At the heart of formation is the crucible of discerning God’s will: is God calling a person to ordained ministry? Becoming a deacon is not simply “signing up”, taking a few courses, and putting on the vestments. This is a life-altering process which at the moment is only engaged in by men. Whether that changes in the future remains to be seen. And, if it does, and women enter formation, they too will then go through that crucible of formation — as well as the papers, the courses and the homilies.
“After increasing for several decades, the number of men entering the permanent diaconate has begun to decline, despite a growing need.” It is worth noting that the diaconate is the only vocation that is growing in the United States—outpacing the priesthood, sisters and religious life. In my own research on the diaconate, I would question again the extrapolation going on: perhaps in some areas or in some dioceses, the number of deacons is going down, but that is simply not the case throughout the country and the rest of the world. The diaconate has been growing steadily for decades and continues to do so. The diaconate worldwide has the potential to be one of the great success stories of the Second Vatican Council.

Now, on the PLUS side:

One exceptionally brief section of the program was a bright spot, and captured the characteristic identity of the deacon. Several deacons were shown installing a laundry room in a home for women emerging from crisis. The reporter describes this group as “a ministry that responds to crises. . . .” One of the deacons involved points out that “besides doing liturgical functions, we’re also called to serve the poor and serve the people of God.” There it is: the role of the deacon is to respond to crises, to serve those most in need. The identity of the deacon is expressed in many ways, but most characteristic is this focus on the needs of others: while we are called to exercise our ministries of Word, Sacrament, and Charity in a balanced way, all of it finds its most significant expression in the servant-leadership of the community in service. If the program had focused on these dimensions — on the very heart of the diaconate itself — it might have avoided the problematic areas which they got largely wrong.

POPE WAVES AS HE ARRIVES FOR GENERAL AUDIENCE AT VATICAN

**Diaconate and Diakonia: An Essential Element of the Church**

The entire Church is called to be a servant-church, a diaconal church. Pope Paul VI repeatedly taught that deacons are to be “the animators of the Church’s service,” and St. John Paul II carried it a step further when he referred to the diaconate as “the Church’s service sacramentalized.” These popes were echoing the teaching and the decisions of the the bishops of the Second Vatican Council when they determined that the Church’s diakonia should be a permanent part of the sacramental life of the Church. Being a deacon is not simply some activity which a person takes on themselves, at their own initiative; rather, it is believed to be a call from God as discerned through the help of the broader Church.

Pope Benedict wrote in Deus Caritas Est, citing St. Luke:

20. “All who believed were together and had all things in common; and they sold their possessions and goods and distributed them to all, as any had need” (Acts 2:44-5). . . . As the Church grew, this radical form of material communion could not in fact be preserved. But its essential core remained: within the community of believers there can never be room for a poverty that denies anyone what is needed for a dignified life.

21. A decisive step in the difficult search for ways of putting this fundamental ecclesial principle into practice is illustrated in the choice of the seven, which marked the origin of the diaconal office (cf. Acts 6:5-6). . . . Nor was this group to carry out a purely mechanical work of distribution: they were to be men “full of the Spirit and of wisdom” (cf. Acts 6:1-6). In other words, the social service which they were meant to provide was absolutely concrete, yet at the same time it was also a spiritual service; theirs was a truly spiritual office which carried out an essential responsibility of the Church, namely a well-ordered love of neighbor. With the formation of this group of seven, “diaconia”—the ministry of charity exercised in a communitarian, orderly way—became part of the fundamental structure of the Church.

It is time now to bring all of this together: in the light of Baton Rouge, Nice, Dallas, “Black Lives Matter,” terrorist acts and wounded communities all around the world: why should we care about an order of ministry within the Church?

THE DIACONATE IN CONTEMPORARY CONTEXT: WHY?

DachauBunkBeds So, what is the connection? How can the diaconate be understood against that much larger and violent backdrop? The most important question of all is perhaps, why do we have deacons in the first place?

We have deacons because the church and the world needed ministers to link the needs of people with the providence, mercy and love of God. This is why deacons have always been described as being associated with the ministry of the bishop and with having the skills to administer “the goods of the Church” for the good of people.
Deacons have historically not been exclusively associated with parish ministry. For the bulk of church history, deacons served as the principle assistants to their bishops, often representing them in councils and as legates, in catechesis (consider Deacon Deogratias of Carthage), in homiletics (Deacon Quodvultdeus, also of Carthage) and by extending the reach of their bishops, such as Deacon Lawrence of Rome. Over time, deacons became subordinate to presbyters as well as bishops, and increasingly involved in what we would recognize as parish ministry. To this very day, deacons are ordained solely by their bishop, for service to him and under his authority: where the bishop is, so should be his deacon.
In our time, as I’ve written about extensively, the Second Vatican Council decided overwhelmingly that the diaconate should be renewed as a permanent ministry in the church once again, even to the extent of opening ordination to married as well as celibate men. The bishops in Council did this largely because of the insights gleaned from the priest-survivors of Dachau Concentration Camp. Following the war, these survivors wrote of how the Church would have to adapt itself to better meet the needs of the contemporary world if the horrors of the first half of the 20th Century were to be avoided in the future. Deacons were seen as a critical component of that strategy of ecclesial renewal. Why? Because deacons were understood as being grounded in their communities in practical and substantial ways, while priests and bishops had gradually become perceived as being too distant and remote from the people they were there to serve.

In short, the diaconate was renewed in order to deal more effectively with the horrors of the contemporary world, not simply to function as parish ministers.

As I frequently challenge myself and other deacons: is the energy I’m expending as a deacon helping to create the conditions in the world in which another “Dachau” could not exist? Or am I involving myself in things that are superficial, contingent, and relatively inconsequential?
The diaconate today, fifty years after the Council, has matured greatly. Those who would talk intelligently about the diaconate need to keep that in mind. Over the past fifty years, formation standards have evolved to better equip deacons for our myriad responsibilities, for example. The diaconate has, at least in those dioceses which have had deacons for several generations, become part of the ecclesial imagination. In some dioceses we have brothers who are deacons, fathers-in-law and sons-in-law who are deacons, fathers and sons who are deacons. In one archdiocese, an auxiliary bishop is the son of that archdiocese’s long-time director of the diaconate. As I mentioned above, the diaconate looks and feels different from one diocese to another and while it is tempting to generalize whenever possible, it is particularly dangerous.
Let me briefly address the question of women and the diaconate. This is a question demanding serious conversation, just as the Holy Father has indicated. He is not alone, nor is he the first pope to think so. Pope Paul VI, St. John Paul II, Pope Benedict (both before his ascension to the papacy and after), and now Pope Francis have all been interested in the question. The 2002 study document of the International Theological Commission (ITC), convened by the authority of then-Cardinal Ratzinger, concluded that it remained for the Church’s “ministry of discernment” to work toward a resolution of the question. But the main thing at this point is to have the conversation. And that conversation will need to take place within the broader context of the lived diaconate, the diaconate whose pastoral praxis and theological reflection has deepened over the past fifty years. Many who opine about women and the diaconate do so from a dated or inadequate understanding of the order. If this conversation is going to be done, it must be done well. In short, to understand the possibilities of women in diakonia, one must first understand the diaconate itself.

Here is my point: If we deacons were restored in response to Dachau and similar world shattering violence, translate “Dachau” to Baton Rouge. “Dachau” to Nice. “Dachau” to “Black Lives Matter”. “Dachau” to 9/11. “Dachau” to every act of senseless terror and random violence. What are we doing to confront these tragedies? What are we doing to work toward a world in which THEY can no longer exist? This is so much more than who gets to exercise “governance” (a technical canonical term) in the Church, or who gets to proclaim the Gospel in the midst of the community of disciples. Like the bishops of the Second Vatican Council, we must ask ourselves how we must evolve and adapt to the new violent conditions of our own age. How can they best be addressed in the interest of the millions of suffering people — here at home and abroad — whose needs we are called to serve? We deacons must, like our “founders” at Vatican II, look beyond the normal categories of parish and issues of “insider baseball.”

Paul-VI I hope that there will be more media programs on the diaconate. I hope that not only will they be done accurately, but that they will also be done with a sense of the vision and potential of the diaconate.

As Pope Paul VI said of us, we are to be “the animators” of the Church’s service: May we give our lives to change the world.

The Synod on the Family: Curtain Up on Act II

Oct19

Today we experienced the ringing down of the curtain on Act I of the synodal process on the Family. Pope Francis closed the Extraordinary Synod today with Mass in St. Peter’s Square and the beatification of Blessed Paul VI.

But the process has only just begun! Perhaps the best road map to the future is found in the Pope’s speech on Saturday closing the final work session of the Extraordinary Synod. In fact, I believe that this beautiful speech deserves to be read in its entirety; you may find it in English translation here, and if you read Italian you can read it as the Pope delivered it, here. It is spiritually rich, and it also gives us wonderful insights into the Holy Father’s dreams for the next steps in the process.

Act II, which has now begun, takes place over the next twelve months. Act III will be Ordinary Synod on the Family to be held in October 2015. Here’s how the Pope explained it in his speech:

Dear brothers and sisters, now we still have one year to mature, with true spiritual discernment, the proposed ideas and to find concrete solutions to so many difficulties and innumerable challenges that families must confront; to give answers to the many discouragements that surround and suffocate families.

One year to work on the “Synodal Relatio” which is the faithful and clear summary of everything that has been said and discussed in this hall and in the small groups. It is presented to the Episcopal Conferences as “lineamenta” [guidelines].

Using the Synod’s Relatio, the various bishops’ conferences around the world will be discussing its contents and mapping out their specific courses of action for their dioceses. For example, here in the United States, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) will have it on their agenda next month at the Fall Meeting in Baltimore. We can expect that individual diocesan bishops will then develop ways and means of encouraging further conversations within their own dioceses over the coming year. Keep in mind, as the Pope says above, that the current Relatio is merely a starting point, a kind of rough draft, for the work that lies ahead.

Then, next October, Act III will begin as the Pope opens an Ordinary Synod (not an Extraordinary one such as just ended) on the Family. At that time, more discussions will be held by the Synod Fathers, many of whom will be different bishops than the ones who attended this one, and a final document will be prepared for the Holy Father. It can then be anticipated that the Pope will take all of these results and draft his own Apostolic Exhortation in which he charts the course ahead.

I think there are several important things to keep in mind.

1) To speak of the current Relatio as anything other than a working document is a mistake. It does not constitute in any way “official teaching.” Rather, it simply recounts, as the Pope says, the various elements which were discussed during this first stage of the process. So, for people to be upset over what the document currently says, or doesn’t say, is very inappropriate and unnecessary. The various topics for FUTURE work are all there; what final forms may come in the year remain to be seen.

2) This is why the Pope directed that even those three paragraphs which did not gain a 2/3 majority vote would still be printed in the text. He also directed that the voting results be included so that everyone (and not just bishops!) could see how the voting went.

3) I would strongly recommend that people spend more time on the Pope’s speech at this point, because it gives the clearest indication of how HE is seeing things. Consider just two tantalizing tidbits.

When the mid-point version of the Relatio was released last week, much attention was given to the language of “welcome” that used with regard to homosexuals, as well as the gifts that they bring to the Church. In fact, some in the blogosphere complained about that translation of “welcome”. The Italian verb used was “accogliere”. According to Italians I’ve asked, the best English translation for that verb is “to welcome.” Still, the English translation was later changed to “provide for” — clearly not an accurate translation. Now look at the Pope’s speech from Saturday. He’s not talking specifically about homosexual persons, but more generally, and he uses “accogliere” again. He reminds the bishops that there first duty is to “feed your sheep, feed your sheep.” He then tells them that they are to:

Seek to welcome [“accogliere”] – with fatherly care and mercy, and without false fears – the lost sheep. I made a mistake here. I said welcome [“accogliere”]: [rather] go out and find them! [“Ho sbagliato, qui. Ho detto accogliere: andare a trovarle.”]

I find it interesting that he takes the time here to use the very verb so many were fussing about earlier in the week: and then he plainly says that even as “welcoming” it doesn’t go far enough! We’re not merely to welcome those who come to us who are lost: we are to go out and find them.

The Pope also reminds us that, as a Church, we are already to be open to all who seek. In a particularly beautiful passage, he teaches:

And this is the Church, the vineyard of the Lord, the fertile Mother and the caring Teacher, who is not afraid to roll up her sleeves to pour oil and wine on people’s wound; who doesn’t see humanity as a house of glass to judge or categorize people. This is the Church, One, Holy, Catholic, Apostolic and composed of sinners, needful of God’s mercy. This is the Church, the true bride of Christ, who seeks to be faithful to her spouse and to her doctrine. It is the Church that is not afraid to eat and drink with prostitutes and publicans. The Church that has the doors wide open to receive the needy, the penitent, and not only the just or those who believe they are perfect! The Church that is not ashamed of the fallen brother and pretends not to see him, but on the contrary feels involved and almost obliged to lift him up and to encourage him to take up the journey again and accompany him toward a definitive encounter with her Spouse, in the heavenly Jerusalem.

So, however Act II and Act III develop over the next year, the vision of our Holy Father Francis is quite clear: the Church as “field hospital” for all in need is open to receive patients; in fact, we’re supposed to be out in the streets and the fields and the back alleys finding those in need. Brother deacons, this message is particularly apt for us! If the whole Church is a field hospital, we deacons should be the EMTs.

Stay tuned. This is going to be quite a year ahead! And, as the Pope requested, pray for him. He has set us on a challenging course, but one that will, with God’s grace, bear much fruit.

Bishops, Blogs and the Clergy: Accountability and Obedience

May3

The recent fracas over a blog hosted by a deacon in England has revealed some interesting fault lines in the development of communications strategies in the contemporary Catholic world. Add to the normal ecclesial relationships involved based on our sacramental theology of Holy Orders and canon law, the American penchant for seeing everything through the lens of personal rights and freedom, and you have a fascinating matrix of meaning. What follows is not intended as in any way comprehensive or exhaustive on the subject, but I would like to raise certain things for reflection and consideration. It is also important to remember that these comments are focused on the Latin Church of the Catholic Church.

First, let’s consider two points about the relationship between a cleric and his bishop.

Point #1: The cleric has become a cleric because he was ordained by a bishop. This ordination has certain effects, both sacramental and canonical. The sacramental effect configures the ordinand in a particular way with Christ; I will address the canonical effect shortly. Since 1972 and the revisions made to the sacrament of Holy Orders by Pope Paul VI, one enters the clerical state by ordination as a deacon through the laying on of the bishop’s hands and the invocation of the Holy Spirit. (Prior to 1972, one entered the clerical state, not through ordination at all, but through the liturgical rite of “tonsure”; the new cleric was then considered “capable” ( “capax” in Latin) of receiving sacramental ordination. The analogy might be with farming: one first plows a furrow and prepares the land to receive the seed and be fruitful; tonsure was that necessary first step.)

Point #2: During the liturgy of ordination, and prior to the moment of ordination itself, the ordinand makes a series of promises to the bishop. The most dramatic promise comes when the ordinand approaches the bishop, puts his hands in the bishops’ while the bishop asks: “Do you promise respect and obedience to me and to my successors?” (If the ordinand is being ordained by a bishop other than his own, the words are changed slightly to reflect that he is promising obedience to his own diocesan bishop and not to the ordaining bishop.) Through this promise and subsequent ordination, the newly-ordained deacon is sacramentally changed at the core of his being, and also becomes linked permanently in relationship with his bishop and the diocesan church. This particular effect of ordination also has a canonical effect, and is referred to as incardination. For example, on 25 March 1990, I was ordained into the Order of Deacons by His Eminence James Cardinal Hickey, then the Cardinal-Archbishop of Washington, DC. I made the promise of obedience to Cardinal Hickey and his successors, which has now included Cardinal McCarrick and Cardinal Wuerl. Over all of the years since, although I have served in a variety of places outside of the archdiocese as well as within the archdiocese, I have always remained incardinated in the Archdiocese of Washington, DC. That is my ecclesiastical “home”.

Concerning the notion of obedience, this is no mere profession of blind obedience to the bishop, nor is it simply a legal requirement to preserve good order and discipline. Holy Orders, as we are told repeatedly in Vatican documents on the diaconate and the priesthood, is at its core about relationships: the relationship of the ordained with Christ, the relationship of the clergy with their bishop, for example, and the relationship of the clergy with the people we serve, or with each other. Ordination is not simply about the individual being ordained, but is actually about the entire Church. For example, it is often helpful to state that a person is not ordained “a deacon” or “a priest”; rather, he is ordained into the Order of Deacons or into the Order of Presbyters. We never operate alone: we are called into a community of service. Therefore, obedience sets the standard for this community. Obedience, in its theological roots, refers to listening and hearing (Latin: ob + audire) the Word of God through the power of the Holy Spirit working through others, and in the case of ordination, that means recognizing the Holy Spirit working through the bishop. It acknowledges in humility that the ordinand recognizes that, through the Bishop’s own ordination into the Order of Bishops, he has received the Holy Spirit in a unique way, the same Holy Spirit he is about to invoke upon the ordinand. The “promise of obedience” then is a profound theological as well as legal moment of that new relationship. Both our theology and consequently our law abhors the notion of a “vagus” cleric: an “unattached” cleric who is not incardinated somewhere, a cleric who is not somehow attached to a particular Church and exercising ministry under the “oversight” (episkopē” in Greek) of a bishop or other legitimate ecclesiastical superior.

Before turning to this particular example, one more technical point to make. There are two broad categories of clergy: so-called “secular” (or diocesan) clergy, where the relationship is focused on the particular geographical community known as a diocese, headed by a diocesan bishop. The other broad category are “religious” clergy, who are members of various religious communities that are most often not geographically restricted. Vows are made (unlike diocesan clergy who do not make vows) upon entrance into the particular religious community, and the religious superior is not a diocesan bishop, but a religious superior; religious clergy serve wherever their congregation serves, and that might be worldwide.

With this as background we come to the current situation of a cleric and his bishop and the deacon’s blog.

The deacon in the current situation is member of the diocesan clergy, bound by his promise of obedience to his bishop. Someone asked about Deacon Greg Kandra and his famous “Deacon’s Bench” blog: yes, if Greg’s bishop were to decide that Greg should no longer host his blog, he would be expected to give it up. As clergy, we surrender a certain amount of freedom which lay people would have in a similar situation. According to Vatican II’s Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen gentium), #18, all clergy exist for one reason: to build up the Body of Christ. It is one of the responsibilities of the diocesan bishop to assess this “on the ground” and to make determinations about the building up of the Body of Christ in his own diocese. As clergy, we are public persons. As such, we cannot really say that “in this activity I am operating as a private person” with regard to the church. We give that ability up upon ordination. We now represent Christ and we also represent the Church. St. Thomas Aquinas famously taught that a cleric acts “in persona Christi et in nomine ecclesiae” (“in the person of Christ and in the name of the Church”).

Cardinal Dolan, in a recent talk at Rome’s University of Santa Croce during a conference on communications, pointed out that we must “adhere to the best and highest standards. . . . How we say something is just as important as what we say.” In this observation he is echoing St. John XXIII, who frequently spoke of the permanence of religious truth on the one hand, and the ways in which those truths are expressed on the other. How we communicate is just as important as the content of what we have to say. As a screenwriter once put it, “Is coarseness a substitute for wit, I ask myself?” Truth is one thing; a Christian should be communicating that truth in a Christian manner; there is no room for “snarkiness”, demeaning characterizations, ad hominem arguments or anything of the like. This is so much more than just “being nice” to others. For clergy in particular, it is about doing what “builds up” the Body, not acting in a manner which derides and tears down the Body. That’s really the gold standard: When I write, when I speak, am I building up the Body of Christ, or serving to tear it down?

If we are not building up the Body, and we are clergy, then it is the obligation of our bishop or religious superior to take corrective action on behalf of the diocesan church. So, when we come across a blog hosted by a member of the Catholic clergy, consider the following points:

1) How well is the cleric in question reflecting a positive, constructive, and energetic vision of the Church? If the blog is characterized by negative, hand-wringing, woe-is-me attitudes about the Church, find another blog to visit!

2) How does the cleric communicate, especially about others with whom he may disagree? For example, Cardinal Dolan stressed the importance of “never caricaturing or stereotyping those who oppose the Magisterium and bishops at every opportunity.” Even in the face of “mean, vicious, and outward attacks,” he said, we must “always respond in charity and love,” he exhorted. “We follow the instruction of Jesus by not responding back to with harsh words of our own.” The use of demeaning, sarcastic and mocking language has no place in Christian communication, especially by members of the clergy, and the cleric should be rightly taken to task if this is part of his communication “style”; it’s simply not consistent with being Christ-like in the community. If you find this on a blog supposedly run by a Catholic cleric, find another one!

3) As public ministers of the Church, no member of the clergy should be reticent about being transparent and accountable about his own ecclesiastical “credentials”: who is his ecclesiastical superior, for example, and how does his blog relate to his overall ministry within the broader communion of the Church? Obviously, I’m not suggesting disclosing information which might be dangerous to his safety, but certainly his public identity as a cleric in a particular religious community or diocesan church is not unreasonable. If a cleric is unwilling or unable to provide such bona fides, it will probably be better to visit someone else!

The bottom line, in my opinion, is the building up of the Body of Christ, the Church. We clergy do this as part of a larger context, not as a collection of individual ministers, but as a communion of ordained ministers who share in the sacrament of Holy Orders. It is no coincidence that “communio theology” has become one of the most paradigmatic forms of ecclesiology since Vatican II, an ecclesiology fully embraced by the papal magisterium. Unlike other forms of Christianity, in which everything revolves around the individual’s relationship with God, our perspective is different. While we certainly hold for the individual’s profession of faith, we do so as part of the larger Trinitarian communion of disciples.

As summarized at Vatican II, we are the People of God, the Mystical Body of Christ, and the Temple of the Holy Spirit.

It’s all about relationships.

Bread, Shoes, Rugs, and the Mass: What did the Bishop just say?

Mar31

Purification and Enlightenment. That’s what the season of Lent is called within the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA), and that’s something we’re all called to be doing. As Holy Week approaches swiftly, and on a secular note, as our politicians continue their posturing in anticipation of future elections, I thought that the following quotes from some of our early bishops from the 4th Century would be a challenging source of reflection, purification and enlightenment. Just as in our own day, the 4th Century was a time of political, military, social and economic upheaval. Extreme wealth and extreme poverty existed side by side. In their homilies during the Eucharist, these bishops took their people to task in strong, unambiguous terms.

Namely: the Eucharist and our understanding of charity and social justice go together. As Christ taught and lived, we cannot love God without loving our neighbor. It’s just that simple, and that challenging. Here are some insights from some of the great bishops of our history. Obviously there are many more, but these should get us all thinking! Imagine: you have just entered into the Eucharist with your fellow parishioners in Constantinople, or Nyssa, or Caesarea, or Milan. The deacon has finished proclaiming the Gospel, and your bishop enters the pulpit. Listen to your bishop!

St. John Chrysostom, the great 4th Century Archbishop of Constantinople, preached frequently and eloquently (“Chrysostom” is a title of sorts, meaning “golden-mouthed” for his eloquence as a preacher) about the care of the needy. “Feeding the hungry is a greater work than raising the dead,” for example. He observed that “The Body of Christ in the Eucharist demands pure souls, not costly garments,” which naturally did not endear him to the wealthy members of the Byzantine court in Constantinople. John was not above using graphic images to shock his listeners. Consider how you would feel if your bishop including this line in his homily: “Do you pay such honor to your excrements as to receive them into a silver chamber-pot when another man made in the image of God is perishing in the cold?”

He didn’t mince words about our responsibilities to the poor:

“It is foolishness and a public madness to fill the cupboards with clothing and allow men who are created in God’s image and likeness to stand naked and trembling with cold, so that they can hardly hold themselves upright.”

“Yes, you say, he is cheating and he is only pretending to be weak and trembling. What! Do you not fear that lightning from Heaven will fall on you for this word? Indeed, forgive me, but I almost burst from anger.”

“Only see, you are large and fat, you hold drinking parties until late at night, and sleep in a warm, soft bed. And do you not think of how you must give an account of your misuse of the gifts of God? On the other hand, you question very closely the poor and the miserable, who are scarcely better off in this respect than the dead: and you do not fear the dreadful and the terrible judgment seat of Christ. If the beggar lies, he lies from necessity, because your hardheartedness and merciless inhumanity force him to such cheating. . . . If we would give our alms gladly and willingly, the poor would never have fallen to such depths.”

“Truly, I am ashamed when I see rich people riding about on horses decorated with gold and with servants clad in gold coming along behind them. They have silver beds and multitudes of other luxuries. But, if they have to give something to a poor man, suddenly they themselves are the poorest of the poor!”

If Archbishop John’s passion for the poor doesn’t convince you, consider some others.

Bishop St. Basil of Caesarea

Bishop St. Gregory of Nyssa and his brother Bishop St. Basil of Caesarea were no shrinking violets either.

Bishop Gregory: “We are all of the same family; all of us are brothers. And

Bishop St. Gregory of Nyssa

among brothers it is best and most equal that all inherit equal portions.”

Bishop Basil: “The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry man; the coat hanging unused in your closet belongs to the man who needs it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to the man who has no shoes; the money which you put in the bank belongs to the poor. You do wrong to everyone you could help, but fail to help.”

Bishop St. Ambrose

And how could we not include the great Bishop of Milan, Ambrose? The outline of his own life is well known, but when he became the bishop of Milan, he immediately adopted an ascetic lifestyle, giving everything he had to the poor. The only funds he retained he earmarked to care for his sister, who later became a nun herself. So, here we are in the cathedral, listing to our Bishop Ambrose giving this homily at Mass:

“Wealth, which so often leads men the wrong way, is seen less for its qualities than for the human misery it stands for. The large rooms of which you are so proud are in fact your shame. They are big enough to hold crowds and also big enough to shut out the voice of the poor. True, even if the voice were heard, it would be ignored. . . . The poor man cries before your house, and you pay no attention. There is your brother, naked, crying, and you stand confused over the choice of an attractive floor covering.”

As we continue our own journey of purification and enlightenment, these great bishops from our past can help us for the demands of Christian discipleship of today. The measure of our holiness lies in how well we care for the poor and all those in need.

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