[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 16th 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.
Initial Reflections on Deacons and Priests in the Summary Reportof the
First Session of the XVI Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops
For the nurturing and constant growth of the People of God, Christ the Lord instituted in His Church a variety of ministries, which work for the good of the whole body (Lumen Gentium, 18).
Introduction: Memories
The old man was tired. We had been conducting a series of interviews over several weeks, and today’s interview had drained him as he recalled people and events from decades earlier. But the last two questions had re-energized him as he shifted in his chair and leaned forward to respond. “Bishop,” I had asked, “two more questions. First, for many years, you used to talk about the Second Vatican Council all the time. In recent years, however, you rarely talk about it. Why not? Second, are there issues that you think the Council Fathers overlooked or did not emphasize as much as they should have?”
The bishop was the bishop emeritus of a Midwestern diocese. He had attended all four sessions of Vatican II as a young newly ordained auxiliary bishop. He had agreed to these interviews as an essential contribution to the oral history of the Council. His responses to these questions were particularly poignant.
“Well, Bill, I’ll tell you. Your two questions go together. The answer is one word: the priesthood.” He explained that, after the Council, he had enthusiastically embraced the implementation of the Council. He created a Diocesan Pastoral Council, restructured and expanded his diocesan staff, and personally spread the news of the Council throughout the diocese. However, not many years after the Council, the dwindling number of priests became a torrent, and the number of seminarians plummeted. As the years passed, the bishop began to wonder if something they had done at the Council – or not done – was responsible. It dawned on him that while the Council had done some wonderful things, perhaps they had missed something.
On the one hand, they had called all people to perfection in holiness, obliged the laity to greater participation and co-responsibility for the Church, advanced their own understanding of the nature of episcopal ministry, addressed reforms in religious life, and even revitalized a diaconate permanently exercised. But the world’s bishops had not addressed the priesthood in any substantive way. The bishop said that the very group who would be responsible for the ongoing pastoral implementation of so many of the Council’s decisions were not consulted in advance, were not represented in the conciliar debates, and were not properly formed and informed to actualize the vision and realize the potential of the Council. The bishops had assumed the overall stability of the nature and ministry of the priesthood. Until his death, the bishop agonized over this lacuna and its effects.
The 16th Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops
This memory came to mind while reading the Synthesis Report of the 16th Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops. This essay will focus on Section 11 of the Report, titled “Deacons and Priests in a Synodal Church.” Before beginning, however, I want to be clear: I could not be more excited about Pope Francis and his call to recognize, affirm, and expand the synodal character of the Church. For the pilgrim church described by Vatican II to continue on its way to the Kingdom, a “synodal path” is essential. However, if the Synod were a choir, I believe some voices would be missing.
By all accounts from those who were there, the 2023 General Assembly was a positive and exhausting experience. The Synod Secretariat at the Holy See faced a Herculean challenge: identifying participants and supporting players representing the universal Church in all its rich tapestry 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. From a planning perspective alone, the Synod office did a yeoman job of pulling together an impressively diverse team of participants.
At the same time, many observers have noted significant lacunae in the participant list. There were, for example, only two deacons in the assembly, one a deacon from Belgium and another from Syria who is about to be ordained a presbyter. Others point to a serious lack of parish priests in the Assembly. Still others highlighted the absence of the poor, and other commentators have noted the lack of substantial influence of the theological experts attending the Assembly when contrasted with the significant impact of theological and canonical periti at Vatican II. All of these areas, and more, are worthy of additional analysis and study. This essay’s focus on Section 11 should not be understood as suggesting these are the only or even the most notable areas for investigation. The purpose of synodality is to journey together, listen, share, and discern together. It seems that if one finds oneself talking about someone else rather than with someone else, then a structural weakness in the process has been found. Consider a well-known example.
Priest anointing
Some years ago, the USCCB worked on a draft document on the role of women in the Church. It went through many drafts, listening sessions, and more drafts. Finally, after years of effort, the bishops scrapped the project. The bishops realized that the document was talking about women and the Church as if they were two distinct things: women on the one hand and the Church on the other. If a group of men called a meeting to talk about women, and no women were part of those conversations, we would immediately see the weakness of the approach.
Similarly, we might point to discussions about deacons and the diaconate, in which deacons had no voice, or discussions about priests and priesthood, in which parish priests had no voice. As mentioned above, two deacons were present at the General Assembly. Yes, there were priests present, but how many were serving as parish priests? The concern is not only that deacons and priests should have the opportunity to be heard, but even more importantly, they are obliged to listen first-hand to the voices around them. Like a choir, the singers must listen to each other. The hope is that as we continue down a synodal path, ways may be found to continue to add voices to the choir. Which is better: to talk about a tenor or to hear one?
The old bishop comes to mind. He came to believe that he had erred by not realizing how the reforms and initiatives of Vatican II would affect the priesthood. The priesthood would remain, he thought, relatively unchanged while everything else around the priest was changing. Only after the Council did he and other bishops realize that their priests were largely unprepared to be the kind of pastoral leaders responsible for implementing the Council’s visions. We might share that concern in the ongoing synodal process. The ministers who will assist in creating and serving in a synodal Church must participate in the formal process so that their voices and experiences can be heard and that they can learn directly from the experiences of others. They have both a right to be heard and an obligation to listen, a responsibility to respond in humility, regarding others as better than themselves, looking not at their own interests, but to the interests of others (Philippians 2:3-4).
Section 11 of the Synthesis Report
Section 11 is composed of three sections: Convergences (4), Issues to Address (2), and Proposals (6).
Convergences
The four “convergences” address the nature and exercise of ordained ministry, an overall positive statement of the diversity and quality of service currently offered by the clergy, a critical concern over clericalism, and finally, how formation leads to an awareness of one’s limitations as well as one’s strengths can help overcome clericalism.
The first point of convergence describes deacons and priests as follows: “The priests are the main cooperators of the Bishop and form a single presbyterate with him; deacons, ordained for the ministry, serve the People of God in the diakonia of the Word, of the liturgy, but above all of charity.”
In general, this sentence is unsurprising. Still, I would observe that the history of the diaconate (especially the patristic record) consistently highlights the unique bond between deacons and their bishop. It is so unique that when a deacon is ordained, only the bishop lays hands on the ordinand, unlike the ordination of presbyters and bishops in which all attending priests lay hands on the new priests and all attending bishops lay hands on the new bishops. The contrast is striking and significant: the deacon has a unique and special relationship with his bishop. Of course, presbyters have their unique priestly fraternity with the bishop, but the omission of the deacon’s relationship with the bishop is unfortunate.
Deacon and Jail Ministry
Second, the description of the deacon’s ministry speaks of the three-fold munus of the Word, of the Liturgy, “but above all of charity.” While it is true that charity is characteristic of the deacon and diaconal ministry, it is the “above all” that raises a concern. Pastoral experience and theological analysis since the renewal of the diaconate nearly sixty years ago have developed an understanding that the three munera are to be balanced and integrated. It has been the position of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops that the three functions are inherently interrelated and that no one who is not competent across all three areas is to be ordained. Some theologians have described the relationship of the functions as perichoretic and not simply discrete functions unto themselves. It is commonplace for deacons and their formators to speak of the “three-legged stool” metaphor: if the three legs are unbalanced, the deacon will fall.
The Report also highlights a concern that deacons value and exercise their liturgical and sacramental role at the expense or neglect of charitable service. That, of course, is a reasonable concern. On the other hand, it seems that the very sacramental identity of the deacon is to be found in a balanced exercise of the three-fold munus. One might say it differently: Just as it would be wrong for a deacon to exercise his liturgical function exclusively with no charitable ministry, it would be equally wrong for a deacon to work only in charitable efforts and not take that work into the pulpit or the sanctuary. Over the years of the renewed diaconate, many writers have correctly stressed the balanced exercise of the Word, the Liturgy, and Charity.
The second point of convergence speaks of the diverse forms of pastoral ministry currently exercised by priests and deacons. It is a fine summary, and its description of a synodal approach to ordained ministry is particularly apt. It opens the discussion to the next point of convergence: the dangers of clericalism.
In this third area, clericalism is described as “an obstacle to ministry and mission” and “a deformation of the priesthood.” While the paragraph speaks in general terms of clericalism, I would suggest that all comments focused on priestly formation and attitude toward power over service should be targeted explicitly at all who serve: bishops, presbyters, deacons, religious, and laity.
The fourth and final point of convergence emphasizes “a path of realistic self-knowledge” at all formation levels for ordained ministry. Again, the term associated with Vatican II, co-responsibility, describes the desired approach to ministry, marked by a “style of co-responsibility.” Human formation should help candidates for ordination (deacons and priests) be aware of their human limits as well as their abilities. Notably, the use of language is inclusive of all the ordained and is not restricted to priestly formation. Also significant is the appreciation of the candidate’s family of origin and the community of faith’s role in this process, which has fostered the vocation to ordained ministry.
Issues to Address
Following these four points of convergence, two specific issues are raised. The first is related to the specific formation of deacons and priests for a synodal Church, and the second concerns priestly celibacy for the priests of the Latin Church.
In the United States, the USCCB has issued and revised a series of formation standards for both deacons and priests over several decades. While there are significant similarities in the content of formation (especially in the intellectual dimension), the context of formation for deacons is quite distinct from that of priests. The program for deacon formation is a diocesan responsibility, augmented as possible or necessary by partnerships with Catholic institutes of higher learning. Rather than going away “to the seminary,” deacon formation is conducted in diocesan venues, usually on evenings and weekends, since most deacon candidates are raising families and working in secular careers and professions.
In that regard, then, deacon formation is already “linked to the daily life of the communities.” This is not to suggest that an ongoing review of the overall deacon formation process is unnecessary so as “to avoid the risks of formalism and ideology which lead to authoritarian attitudes.” Both seminary and diocesan formation processes will benefit from the Synod’s call for extensive and creative re-evaluation.
The second issue, concerning priestly celibacy, is straightforward and is a topic that has been long discussed. Does the overall value of celibacy “necessarily translate into a disciplinary obligation in the Latin Church”? While further reflection may be appropriate, it would seem to be an opportune time to move into implementing a program ad experimentum in various locations in which married candidates for presbyteral ordination are admitted to formation and possible ordination to the presbyterate.
Proposals
Six proposals conclude the section. Three of them focus on the diaconate. I will summarize them before commenting on them in globo.
The first proposal recommends an evaluation “of the implementation of the diaconal ministry after the Second Vatican Council,” citing the uneven implementation of the diaconate. Several concerns are mentioned. First, some regions have not introduced it at all. Others fear the diaconate might be misunderstood as an attempted “remedy” for the shortage of priests. Still others were concerned that “sometimes their ministeriality is expressed in the liturgy rather than in service to the poor and needy.” The essential point is sound: implementing a renewed diaconate has been uneven.
Second, the Synod identifies a need “to understand the diaconate first and foremost in itself, and not only as a stage of access to the priesthood.” It points out the linguistic distinction sometimes made between so-called “permanent” and “transitional” deacons as a sign of the failure to describe the diaconate on its own terms. Third, the “uncertainties surrounding the theology of the diaconal ministry” reveal a need for “a more in-depth reflection,” which “will also shed light on the question of women’s access to the diaconate.”
All three proposals have merit and should be pursued enthusiastically, systematically, and comprehensively. However, the language of the proposals suggests that such an evaluation has not been undertaken already in various places. Documents from the Holy See (published in 1998) and from the various episcopal conferences have long cited these areas of concern. The Holy See issued Basic Norms for the Formation of Permanent Deacons jointly with the Directory for the Ministry and Life of Permanent Deacons, which offered significant theological and canonical guidance on the renewal of the diaconate.Almost from the beginning of the 1968 renewal of the diaconate in the United States, the Conference of Bishops has conducted regular assessments on these and related issues.
For example, a significant series of studies by the USCCB in 1995 resulted in the Conference renaming the bishops’ committee responsible for the renewed diaconate to remove the word “Permanent,” changing the Secretariat (and Committee) of the Permanent Diaconate to the Secretariat (and Committee) of the Diaconate in recognition of the theological point that there is one diaconate. Sacramentally, no ordination is “transitional”: once ordained a deacon, one remains a deacon. As I have written elsewhere, we do not refer to a presbyter who later becomes a bishop as a “transitional” priest; he remains a priest. A deacon remains a deacon even if one is later is ordained presbyter or bishop. One practice related to this matter that needs serious review is the continued use of the “apprentice model of the diaconate” of ordaining seminarians to the diaconate before ordination to the presbyterate. This practice continues distorting the possibilities of the diaconate being exercised in a synodal church.
Finally, the USCCB and other episcopal conferences have issued national Directories on deacons’ formation, ministry, and life. In addition to these magisterial efforts, theologians worldwide have studied, taught, and written extensively on these issues.
I enumerate these sources to counter the possible implication of the Synod’s words that the evaluation it is calling for would be something new. Significant pastoral and theological work has been undertaken for decades, and this foundational work could serve well the contemporary synodal call for a “more in-depth evaluation.” Any such new evaluation will have a strong foundation on which to build.
The fourth and fifth proposals implement the previous discussion about the nature and content of clergy formation, including the development of “processes and structures that allow regular verification of the ways in which priests and deacons who carry out roles of responsibility exercise the ministry.” The key would be to have ways for the local community’s involvement in these structures. While these are welcome proposals, one might suggest the feedback and assessment process be expanded to include the episcopate, presbyterate, and diaconate. The final proposal is also straightforward and should be readily implemented, providing an “opportunity to include priests who have left the ministry in a pastoral service that enhances their training and experience.”
Conclusion
Would the presence of additional deacons and priests at the General Assembly have had an impact on any of these and related questions? We cannot know, but one would certainly hope it would have contributed something of value to the process. As synodal strategies are developed and enhanced throughout the Church, deacons and priests will be expected to assist and support the process in concert with everyone else. It is essential that the hearts, hands, and voices of deacons and parish priests be part of the chorus of the faithful now engaged in the discernment of a future synodal Church. If we find ourselves talking about other people rather than talking together with them, we have reached a perilous point. All of us are called to pray, listen, discern, and lend our hearts and hands to build a synodal Church.
In my previous essays on this topic (Part One here, Part Two here, Part Three here), I have referenced the various Worksheets included with the Instrumentum Laboris for the October Synod Assembly. I now offer this brief postscript.
Section B 2 is concerned with “Co-responsibility in Mission.” In this section is the question (B 2.4), “How can we properly value ordained Ministry in its relationship with baptismal Ministries in a missionary perspective?” Included in this section is a “question for discernment”: “How can we promote in the Church both a culture and concrete forms of co-responsibility such that the relationship between baptismal Ministries and ordained Ministry is fruitful? If the Church is wholly ministerial, how can we understand the specific gifts of ordained Ministers within the one People of God from a missionary perspective?”
Among the several suggestions for prayer and reflection is this one: “How is the ministry of the permanent diaconate to be understood within a missionary synodal Church?”
Would it not be prudent, appropriate, and wise to have deacons in the room for that prayer, reflection and discernment?
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.
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!
In 258 AD, the Roman emperor Valerian ordered the execution of all Christian clergy in Rome. Pope Sixtus II had been arrested and was being led to his death when his Archdeacon Lawrence approached him with these words. Several days later, Lawrence too would be martyred, following in his bishop’s footsteps. The legend of Lawrence of Rome has inspired Christians, especially deacons, ever since. And his words echo through the ages.
“Father, where are you going without your deacon?” These words came to mind recently when the list of participants was published for this October’s Synod on Synodality. As a student and teacher of Ecclesiology, I was excited to see the expanded “guest list”. Every conceivable category of persons is going to participate in the Synod. Lay women and men, religious women and men, young students, bishops, presbyters, theologians, canonists — almost everyone gets a seat at the table. It is a glorious tapestry of the Church! Except that one strand of color will be missing from that tapestry.
“Father, where are you going without your deacon?” Among all the participants in this part of the synodal process, there seemed to be not a single solitary deacon. I was later able to verify that one or possibly two deacons would be there, although not from North America. To many people, this dearth of deacons may not seem an important issue. However, the diaconate is an ordained ministry that is uniquely synodal in its nature and focus. Ordained “in the person of Christ the Servant” to model the kenotic nature of the Church, deacons are (in the words of St. John Paul II) “apostles of the New Evangelization.” Deacons proclaim, invite, mediate, and pour themselves out to meet the needs of others, with a unique relationship to the bishop and his ministry. In 1967, when St. Paul VI implemented the Second Vatican Council’s decision to renew a diaconate permanently exercised, there were no so-called “permanent” deacons in the Church. Today, there are more than 50,000 such deacons, with about 40% of those deacons here in the United States.
This is more than a question of numbers, however. It is the fact that, given what the Church believes and teaches about the very nature of the diaconate, one of the three orders of ordained ministry in the Church, deacons could and should contribute to the synodal process, including the October Assembly. So, on at least two levels, the current absence of deacons in the process is crushing. First, our absence suggests that deacons have nothing to contribute, or conversely, nothing to learn from the process of the Synod. Second, who is there to share our story, our insights, and our vision?
“Father, where are you going without your deacon?”
Six weeks ago Pope Francis issued an Apostolic Letter called “Traditionis Custodes” (“Guardians of the Tradition”). When I heard the news and read the Letter, my first thought was, “thank God.” In this essay I want to explain why, and suggest several points for moving forward.
The Letter had little impact on the majority of Catholics, Catholics who celebrate Mass at their local parish, help out as they can, enroll their children in religious education classes, celebrate the sacraments with great joy, and, in short, participate in the life of their parish in peace. However, the Letter exploded like a bomb in the circles of those who refer to themselves as “traditional” or “traditionalist” Catholics. We must be cautious with these terms. All Catholics are “traditional”: we hold that God’s revelation flows from Christ through the double streams of Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition. A “traditionalist” has been described as “an advocate of maintaining tradition, especially so as to resist change.” This certainly seems an appropriate characterization of some of these groups. Liturgically, they express this traditionalist identity through the use of the 1962 Missale Romanum and largely reject the principles of liturgical reform mandated made by the Second Vatican Council in its first document, Sacrosanctum Concilium [SC] (the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy), promulgated in December, 1963. With this new Letter and its restrictions on the use of the older form of the Mass, traditionalists are convinced even more that the Catholic Church is headed in the wrong direction.
Historically, liturgical reform began long before Vatican II. But with the affirmation of the reform movement by the Council, and the principles of reform clearly articulated in SC, the pace of liturgical change accelerated. St. Paul VI wasted no time. A month after the promulgation of SC , he instituted the Consilium ad exsequendam Constitutionem de Sacra Liturgia [Council for the Implementation of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy]. Building on the specific principles contained in SC, the Consilium developed the reforms to the Mass, and Pope Paul promulgated the novus ordo Missae (the “new order of the Mass”) in the Roman Missal of 1970. At the end of this essay we will look in detail at his own view of the Roman Missal that bears his name.
PERSONAL TESTIMONY
Before going any further, I want to offer some personal testimony from those days. I loved the pre-Conciliar Latin Mass. It was the Mass of my youth. I was born in 1950, and this was the Mass we celebrated every Sunday. When I entered Catholic grade school, it was the Mass we celebrated every day before class. I began serving the Mass in 1957 as a seven year-old third grader. In our parish, we had three Masses on every weekday, and six on Sunday, one of which was a Solemn High Mass. I continued to serve at the parish until I left home in 1963 at age 13 to enter the high school seminary. Obviously, I continued to serve in the seminary, and by age 15 I was Master of Ceremonies for Holy Week when I went home for Easter break. I had also been studying the piano and organ since second grade and by seventh grade, I was one of the three regular organists for our parish, covering all of those Sunday and weekday Masses, along with funerals and weddings. I continued to do this when I would come home for the summers. To say that I was heavily engaged in the liturgical life of the parish would be an understatement. I loved the pre-Conciliar Latin Mass. At the same time, I was enthusiastic about the possibilities of the changes set in motion by the Council.
When I started the seminary, in September, 1963, the Second Vatican Council was entering its second session and, by the time we went home for Christmas vacation that December, Sacrosanctum Concilium had been promulgated by an overwhelming vote by the world’s bishops of 2,147 placet to 4 non placet. By the end of that school year, we were beginning to feel the effects of the changes to come. We were following events in Rome closely. Some of the priests on our faculty had friends and classmates studying and working in Rome, and they would share their own insights about the Council and the discussions taking place among the bishops. The Council was as real to us as if we were actually there. One poignant memory remains with me. During that school year of 1963-64, one of our religion teachers in the seminary was an elderly priest. One day we were talking about the liturgical changes being debated in Rome. Father began to talk about his time as a parish priest, and how special it was to celebrate the Mass for his people. “You know, gentlemen, I am so excited about the possibilities being discussed. For years, I have dreamed of turning around to face my people and say — in English! — ‘The Lord be with you.’ How many times I have turned toward them and said ‘Dominus vobiscum’ to a church of people who had no idea what was going on at the altar.” He continued, “I know that I will never live to see that day, gentlemen, but if — God willing — you become priests, you’ll be able to do just that!” Fortunately, he was wrong. Before the end of that school year, we had received permission from the bishops to implement ad experimentum some of the liturgical changes. There was Father, turning to us with tears in his eyes, greeting us with “The Lord be with you!” I remained in the seminary throughout high school and college (1963-1971), living through the final years of the Council and the first years of its implementation. It was a blessed time.
CURRENT SITUATION
Not everyone accepted the liturgical changes, of course. Various individuals, notably Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre, formed groups to celebrate the “old Mass” rather than the “new Mass.” Every pope from Paul VI to Francis has attempted to resolve the disputes with these groups. The goal, of course, is communio. One of the four traditional marks of the Church is the claim that we are “One.” This mark is founded in the priestly prayer of Christ as the Last Supper, when Jesus prayed to His Father “that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us” (John 17: 21). Over the decades since the Council, the popes have all showed good faith in working with these groups in a quest to strengthen or in some cases restore that unity.
While I knew some of this history, my research interests revolved around other issues. Since ordination as a deacon for the Archdiocese of Washington, DC, I have served in wide variety of pastoral, diocesan, and national assignments, from Washington, DC, to Iowa, Illinois, and California. In more than three decades of diaconal ministry, I have encountered very few parishioners who characterized themselves as “traditionalist” or who preferred to worship according to the 1962 Missale. So I decided, after the Pope’s letter, that I should look more closely into these matters. My reason was simple: I wanted to see if there was some way to help alleviate the pain these folks were experiencing. I had heard of several popular personalities who had extensive influence on Twitter and YouTube, so off I went.
I began exchanging tweets with one of these personalities, a Texas “influencer” who promptly “blocked” me on Twitter when I suggested some of his claims about the Church were inaccurate. Over on his YouTube channel, one of this man’s “co-hosts” repeatedly mocked “the Novus Ordo Church.” In another video, this same duo condemned, mocked, and dismissed the language they associated with the Council, terms like “pastoral,” “People of God,” and “social justice.” The co-host complained (and, as usual, mocked) Vatican II’s call for a reformed liturgy which involved “the full, conscious, and active participation” of the laity at the Mass. He gleefully reported, to the great amusement of his host, that as a sign of dissent against this teaching, he would pull out his rosary at the “novus ordo” Masses he occasionally and reluctantly attended. Interesting idea: the rosary as dissent! Then I was struck by another fact. While the host repeatedly complained about the constant liturgical “novelties” and “abuses” of the novus ordo, implying widespread experience with the “new Mass,” he remarked casually to his co-host that in all the years since his conversion to Catholicism (he had been a priest in the Episcopal church) he had only attended nine or ten novus ordo Masses!
These commentators are not alone. I spent considerable time looking at other sites to see other reactions to the pope’s Letter. Again, there were hyperbolic, breathless headlines, mostly directed in vitriolic terms against the Holy Father. Not having spent much time in this “traditionalist” world, I was stunned. These people, while claiming an identity of “faithful Catholics,” presented themselves as anything but! To offer any support of Pope Francis was ridiculed as ultramontanism. Furthermore, their mocking dismissal of Vatican II was disturbing. They seemed to lump together all of the world’s bishops who were the Council Fathers of Vatican II, characterizing them as some kind of liberal, hippy, cabal that was out to destroy the Church. Others adopted an attitude that people don’t need to pay attention to Vatican II because it was a “lesser” Council which will go down in history as a minor kerfluffle. Certainly, they say, it was not of the stature of the magnificent Councils of Trent or Nicaea. For the record, all of the twenty-one general Councils of the Church hold the same magisterial status. As I heard and read these comments, I realized that none of these people seemed to have any real substantive knowledge about what the Council was all about: why it was called in the first place, what its goals were, and the vision behind the decisions the world’s bishops made.
Consider again the final vote on Sacrosanctum Concilium. 2,147 bishops approved the text; only 4 disapproved. Look at those numbers. They are incredible. To hear some of our “traditionalist” sisters and brothers, it may seem that there was a huge rift among the bishops about the principles of liturgical reform being promulgated in Sacrosanctum Concilium. There was vigorous debate, of course! However, when the final version was presented for their vote, the bishops were nearly unanimous in their approval.
Fast forward to the present. Pope Francis explained in the Letter that he wrote it after consulting with the bishops of the world and their concerns over the continued usage by some Catholics of the 1962 Missale Romanum. These concerns revolve around the unity and communio of the Church. This was the hope of Pope Benedict when he promulgated Summorum Pontificum. Benedict created a novelty by initiating a practice never before done within a single ritual church. His hope was that by creating two “forms” (the “ordinary” which is the Mass of Paul VI, and the “extraordinary” which is the 1962 Roman Missal) the forms would mutually enrich each other, and those feeling disenfranchised by the liturgical changes following the Council might be reconciled. Unfortunately, despite his good intentions, Benedict’s attempt was a failure. For all their public protestations to the contrary, the “traditionalists” who are “influencers” on social media communicate a radical disunity with the Church and her magisterium. Many of the people I encountered on Twitter and YouTube have come into the Catholic Church from other religious traditions, and it makes one wonder what attracted some of them to the Catholic Church in the first place if they have so many problems with the magisterium of the Church! Nonetheless, I am not judging their motivation, their spirituality, or their love for the Church, and I believe they are attempting to operate in good faith.
Where might we go from here? Consider the following four points.
1) As other commentators have pointed out, this issue is not about Latin. It’s never been about Latin. It is about the Church. It is about ecclesiology. The ancient maxim, dating back as far as the 5th Century St. Prosper of Aquitaine, is lex orandi, lex credendi. How we are praying reflects how we are believing. This goes far beyond the language in which the liturgy is celebrated. If the issue was simply about the use of Latin, that need could be met readily simply by using the Latin editio typica of the current Roman Missal. But this is not about the Latin alone.
What kind of Church is reflected in in the 1962 Missale? And what kind of Church is reflected in the current Missal? As is well known, Vatican II described the Church in scriptural and sacramental terms. The world’s bishops also chose to speak of the Church as a pilgrim and moved away from the previous model of perfectas societas. They also stressed the Trinitarian identity of the entire church in all of its members as the People of God, Mystical Body of Christ, and the Temple of the Holy Spirit. I am not saying that the pre-Conciliar Church did not see itself as sacramental or did not appreciate its Trinitarian foundation. What I am saying is that Vatican II’s vision of Church, as discernible through a study of the historical development of the various drafts of the key conciliar documents, chose to stress aspects of this identity with new focus and emphasis. This can be seen, for example, in many of the changes made to the Mass following the Council. One particular example is that the 1962 Missale refers to the assembly of the faithful at Mass rarely, and these were directions to the priest-celebrant such as to turn toward the people to determine if there were communicants. While much ink has been spilled in the intervening years about what “active participation” by the laity should mean, we must always keep in mind that “active participation” is not to be considered in isolation: Sacrosanctum Concilium almost always links it with “full,” and “conscious.” Consider this passage:
Mother Church earnestly desires that all the faithful should be led to that fully conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebrations which is demanded by the very nature of the liturgy. Such participation by the Christian people as “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a redeemed people, is their right and duty by reason of their baptism. In the restoration and promotion of the sacred liturgy, this full and active participation by all the people is the aim to be considered before all else; for it is the primary and indispensable source from which the faithful are to derive the true Christian spirit; and therefore pastors of souls must zealously strive to achieve it, by means of the necessary instruction, in all their pastoral work.
Sacrosanctum Concilium, #14
This ecclesiological foundation is behind all of the teaching and action of every Pope since St. Paul VI promulgated the novus ordo missae. The conversation that we should be having is less about Latin or even about which edition of the Mass we should be using. Rather, it must be about the kind of Church we are called to be. One traditionalist commentator is fond of referring dismissively to the post-Conciliar Church as “the Church of Nice,” a Church which doesn’t want to offend anyone, especially those not part of the Catholic Church. It is important to understand that the attitude of the Church’s bishops is born of a desire to respond to Christ’s prayer for unity. One of the goals of the Council and the post-Conciliar papal magisterium has been to work for Christian unity. This does not mean watering down our teachings, but finding areas of common faith and seeking pathways toward ultimate reunion. The Church, according to Vatican II, is to serve “as a leaven and as a kind of soul for human society as it is to be renewed in Christ and transformed into God’s family” (Gaudium et spes, #40).
Reception of Vatican II is, therefore, central to this current issue regarding the Mass. The Council articulated a vision for the future of the Church, and suggested directions for ongoing reform. Vatican II, as all prior twenty general Councils of the Church, articulates magisterial teaching. One does not have the option to say, “I will respect the magisterial authority of THIS Council but not THAT one.” This is a fundamental point being raised by every pope from St. Paul VI to Francis.
2) The normative Roman Missal is not the1962 Missale Romanum. There is discussion among traditionalists that this Missale “was never abrogated” when the 1970 Missal appeared. The traditionalist-vilified novus ordo Missae is the norm, what Benedict XVI termed the “ordinary” form of the Mass. It seems wise to me that the characterization of ordinary and extraordinary forms has been discarded. Given the intimate sacramental relationship between the Eucharist (the Mass) and the Church, such a distinction is not helpful. Remember lex orandi, lex credendi. So, for example, we do not speak of an “ordinary” form of the Church and an “extraordinary” form of the Church. As I said above, the fundamental issue here is not language of the Mass, or the associated rubrics. This is about the Church. The ritual and sui iuris Churches that make up the Catholic Church have one ritual expression of the Eucharist within each Church. The diversity of the Church found in the communion of Catholic Churches is matched by the unity within each Church.
Unfortunately, to read or watch certain certain traditionalist commentators, one would think the situation was reversed: that it was the “new Mass” which is — or should be — the extraordinary form, retaining the 1962 Missale as the ordinary form. In other words, the desire seems to be for a different kind of Church, not simply a different form of the Mass.
3) It was precisely the 1962 Missale that the overwhelming majority of the world’s bishops wanted reformed! This point cannot be overstressed. When the bishops directed a reform of the Mass, the Mass they had in mind was the 1962 Missale. According to the bishops, this Mass needed reform. Again, reading or watching traditionalist commentators, they seem to feel that the unreformed 1962 Missale is perfect as it is and in no need of reform; some would go so far as to say that it cannot be reformed anyway, due to the language of St. Pius V’s Quo Primum, which said no one could ever change the Mass. The simple fact is that, despite the language of Quo Primum, the Mass of Pius V was changed regularly over the centuries , including a new editio typica during the reign of St. John XXIII.
4) Much of the recent agita over Traditionis Custodes has attempted to pit Pope Francis against his immediate predecessor, Pope Benedict. Rather, Pope Francis has as his object the identical positions taken by every Pope from Paul VI onward. It was, in fact, Pope Benedict who tried a novel approach in his well-intentioned but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to heal the breach between those who favor the unreformed 1962 Missale and Catholics who celebrate the reformed Mass of Paul VI. Furthermore, Benedict’s decision to remove diocesan bishops from any role in the use of the “old Mass” in their own dioceses has proven unfortunate and harmful. Pope Francis has now corrected that approach, returning the responsibility of the diocesan bishop as the chief liturgist of his diocese. However, as stressed above, it is critical to remember that both popes share a common vision of Christian unity, following the prayer of Christ. Instead of trying to pit one pope against another, it is far better to find their commonality.
CONCLUSION
On Wednesday, 19 November 1969, St. Pope Paul VI addressed the imminent implementation of the new Roman Missal during his general audience. He anticipated several questions. What follows are direct citations from the address. I include these rather lengthy quotes because of their ongoing applicability.
Question #1: How could such a change be made? Answer: It is due to the will expressed by the Ecumenical Council held not long ago. The Council decreed:
“The rite of the Mass is to be revised in such a way that the intrinsic nature and purpose of its several parts, as also the connection between them, can be more clearly manifested, and that devout and active participation by the faithful can be more easily accomplished. For this purpose the rites are to be simplified, while due care is taken to preserve their substance. Elements which, with the passage of time, came to be duplicated, or were added with but little advantage, are now to be discarded. Where opportunity allows or necessity demands, other elements which have suffered injury through accidents of history are now to be restored to the earlier norm of the Holy Fathers.”
Sacrosanctum Concilium, #50
Pope Paul continues, “The reform which is about to be brought into being is therefore a response to an authoritative mandate from the Church. It is an act of obedience. It is an act of coherence of the Church with herself. It is a step forward for her authentic tradition. . . . It is not an arbitrary act. It is not a transitory or optional experiment. It is not some dilettante’s improvisation. It is a law.”
The pope underscores the unity of the Church, now to be found in its liturgical reform: “This reform puts an end to uncertainties, to discussions, to arbitrary abuses. It calls us back to that uniformity of rites and feeling proper to the Catholic Church, the heir and continuation of that first Christian community, which was all “one single heart and a single soul” (Acts 4:32).
Question #2: What exactly are the changes?
You will see for yourselves that they consist of many new directions for celebrating the rites. . . . But keep this clearly in mind: Nothing has been changed of the substance of our traditional Mass. Perhaps some may allow themselves to be carried away by the impression made by some particular ceremony or additional rubric, and thus think that they conceal some alteration or diminution of truths which were acquired by the Catholic faith for ever, and are sanctioned by it. They might come to believe that the equation between the law of prayer, lex orandi and the law of faith, lex credendi, is compromised as a result.
It is not so. Absolutely not. . . . The Mass of the new rite is and remains the same Mass we have always had. If anything, its sameness has been brought out more clearly in some respects.
The unity of the Lord’s Supper, of the Sacrifice on the cross of the re-presentation and the renewal of both in the Mass, is inviolably affirmed and celebrated in the new rite just as they were in the old. The Mass is and remains the memorial of Christ’s Last Supper. At that Supper the Lord changed the bread and wine into His Body and His Blood, and instituted the Sacrifice of the New Testament. He willed that the Sacrifice should be identically renewed by the power of His Priesthood, conferred on the Apostles. Only the manner of offering is different, namely, an unbloody and sacramental manner; and it is offered in perennial memory of Himself, until His final return (cf. De la Taille, Mysterium Fidei, Elucd. IX).
In the new rite you will find the relationship between the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist, strictly so called, brought out more clearly, as if the latter were the practical response to the former (cf. Bonyer). You will find how much the assembly of the faithful is called upon to participate in the celebration of the Eucharistic sacrifice, and how in the Mass they are and fully feel themselves “the Church.” You will also see other marvelous features of our Mass. But do not think that these things are aimed at altering its genuine and traditional essence.
Rather try to see how the Church desires to give greater efficacy to her liturgical message through this new and more expansive liturgical language; how she wishes to bring home the message to each of her faithful, and to the whole body of the People of God, in a more direct and pastoral way.
Question #3: What will be the results of this innovation? The results expected, or rather desired, are that the faithful will participate in the liturgical mystery with more understanding, in a more practical, a more enjoyable and a more sanctifying way. That is, they will hear the Word of God, which lives and echoes down the centuries and in our individual souls; and they will likewise share in the mystical reality of Christ’s sacramental and propitiatory sacrifice.
The pope concluded, “So do not let us talk about ‘the new Mass.’ Let us rather speak of the ‘new epoch’ in the Church’s life.”
I hope that all of us can take the long view of two centuries of liturgical reform, and see liturgical reform within the even larger revitalization of the Church herself. This is why my first reaction to Traditionis Custodes was to thank God. At Vatican II, the world’s bishops gathered in solemn Council introduced the idea of liturgical reform in just such a way, as part of larger project of ecclesial reform. It is time for all of us — in faithfulness to Scripture, Tradition, and the Magisterium — to set aside fear, the rhetoric of mockery, distortion, and condescension, and recommit ourselves to this vision of the Council:
“This sacred Council has several aims in view: it desires to impart an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful; to adapt more suitably to the needs of our own times those institutions which are subject to change; to foster whatever can promote union among all who believe in Christ; to strengthen whatever can help to call the whole of mankind into the household of the Church. The Council therefore sees particularly cogent reasons for undertaking the reform and promotion of the liturgy.
The news about the institutional dimension of the Catholic Church has been persistent and devastating. Crimes, cover-ups, accusations, bizarre and power-hungry behavior on the part of so many in positions of authority: it’s all been too much for so many. For people around the world, the Church has lost all credibility and moral authority. Why should anyone care what we have to say about anything? As Paulist Father Frank DeSiano observed in a recent column, we still have a mission “to evangelize in difficult times.” But who will listen?
People are done with words. Words have too often proven to be false. Words have too often proven to be hollow. Words have too often proven to be shadowy caverns of deceit.
It’s past time for action. Our collective examination of conscience must include thorough investigation, honest analysis, and concrete plans of action and reform. Pope Francis reminds us that all of our institutions, from parishes through the papacy, need to be reformed constantly so that our mission of spreading the “Joy of the Gospel” may be effective in our own day. Never has this call for radical reform been more obvious. Where to start?
Certainly, all of this must be done, and done immediately. We can’t go on like this.
We must get back to basics.
1. “Master, to whom shall we go?”
Last weekend’s scriptures focus on the fundamental relationship of the Christian with the Lord God. Joshua challenges the people to “decide today” which God they will follow, and a forlorn Jesus asks his own followers if they too will walk away from him, joining those who found his teaching on the bread of life “too hard to accept”. Peter, speaking for the rest of us, responds, “Master to whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life!”
Today, we must concentrate on that fundamental relationship. The Profession of Faith states it unequivocally. “Credo” refers to the giving of one’s heart. “I give my heart to God, the Father Almighty. . . I give my heart to Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord. . . I give my heart to the Holy Spirit, the Lord and Giver of life. . . .” Everything else builds on that; without it nothing else matters.
“Decide today!”
2. Build From the Bottom: The View of One Who Serves
We claim to follow Christ – and Christ emptied himself for others, challenging us to do the same. If our Lord came “not to be served but to serve” how can we do otherwise? St. Paul reminds the Philippians that they should “in humility regard others as better than yourselves.” (Philippians 2:3) In Jewish theology, “humility” is the opposite of “pride”: the truly humble person would never exert abusive power over another. The Christian looks up from washing the feet of others into the eyes of Christ on the cross gazing back.
The reforms we need right now start from that perspective of humility, compassion, and service, and the Church must be one which is in a constant state of reform, renewal and conversion. The world’s bishops assembled at the Second Vatican Council taught:
Christ summons the Church to continual reformation as she sojourns here on earth. The Church is always in need of this, in so far as she is an institution of human beings here on earth. Thus if, in various times and circumstances, there have been deficiencies in moral conduct or in church discipline, or even in the way that church teaching has been formulated — to be carefully distinguished from the deposit of faith itself — these can and should be set right at the opportune moment.
— Vatican II, Unitatis Redintegratio, #6
Now is the “opportune moment.” More than that: this is the essential moment.
“Decide today!”
3. Religion: Binding Ourselves to God
The word “religion” refers to binding ourselves to God. And the letter of James read this weekend should inspire us all in our reform: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this: to care for orphans and widows in their affliction and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” Our religion should be known first and foremost for how we care for those most in need, not by our vestments, our grand churches, our rituals or the brilliance of our teaching. When people think of Christianity, may they come to think first of the thousands upon thousands of selfless people – laity, religious, and clergy – who pour their lives out in service at home and around the world. I have a dream that someday when a person googles images of “the Catholic Church” the first pictures shown will not be of St. Peter’s and the Vatican, but of advocates working humbly, tirelessly and fearlessly to meet the needs of others: teachers, medical professionals, volunteers, and yes, spouses and parents giving their all for each other and their children.
Christianity should be about the way we love God and others, about being a “sign and instrument” of intimate communion with God and with the whole human race (Lumen gentium 1). Clergy exist only to support, encourage, and serve the rest in doing that. As Bishop Augustine of Hippo preached so long ago, “For you I am a bishop, with you, after all, I am a Christian. The first is the name of an office undertaken, the second a name of grace; that one means danger, this one salvation.”
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This is a “crisis” point for our Church: a turning point. Who are we as the People of God, the Mystical Body of Christ, the Temple of the Holy Spirit? The choices we make now are as critical as those made by those holy women and men before us who faced their own challenges to reform the Church to respond the needs of their time.
What are you and I prepared to do about all of this? This isn’t about bishops, cardinals or even the Pope: we the Church are a communion of disciples, and our response must involve all of us.
Cardinal Donald Wuerl, the Cardinal-Archbishop of the Archdiocese of Washington, DC has just released Sharing in the Joy of Love in Marriage and Family: A Pastoral Plan to Implement Amoris Laetitia. You may access the full document here. This may be the first parish-centered pastoral plan on this subject in the United States, and I thank Deacon Greg Kandra for posting about this significant event. This has personal implications for me, since I am a deacon of the Archdiocese of Washington, DC so the new document has particular personal and ministerial relevance; Cardinal Wuerl is my bishop!
I think it is important to note from the outset that Cardinal Wuerl is a master teacher and a faithful, precise theologian. Indeed, long before he became a bishop, he was well-known to be a skilled catechist, gifted teacher and respected author. This catechetical perspective informs his entire approach to ministry, so it comes as no surprise that he would create a pastoral resource for the clergy, religious and laity of the Archdiocese, and that this resource would be grounded in a faithful presentation of the teaching of the Church on marriage and family life. He provides clear guidance and direction for all Catholics of the Archdiocese, which should serve to prevent confusion while also serving as an aid for everyone seeking to strengthen their own marriages and families, and the pastoral ministers who are supporting them. These initial comments can only skim the surface of what is a much more substantive document, and I encourage everyone to take the time to read the Pastoral Plan in detail. Let’s take a closer look.
More than fifty pages in length, the Pastoral Plan consists of a preface, some introductory reflections, five “parts”, a conclusion and an executive summary. The five major sections are: Amoris Laetitia’s Teaching, the Way of Faith and Contemporary Culture, the Way of Accompaniment, the Importance of Parish Life, and finally, In Service of the Ministry of Accompaniment, which consists of an extensive list of resources available to pastoral ministers.
The contributions of the Pastoral Plan revolve around several key themes: context, accompaniment, conscience, and practical care.
CONTEXT
The document’s first significant contribution is context. In the Preface, Cardinal Wuerl makes clear that the Plan incorporates not only the teaching of Amoris Laetitia itself, but also the two Synods which preceded and inspired it. For me this is a most important reminder. Far too frequently, observers have attempted to read and comprehend the pope’s Exhortation without this context, and that, in my opinion, is not only inadequate but dangerous. “Text” always requires “context”, and the Cardinal makes this clear: to understand and to implement Amoris Laetitia, one must situate it within that broader global synodal process. Amoris Laetitia, precisely as a post-synodal apostolic exhortation, reflects not merely the personal teaching of the Holy Father himself; it is that, certainly, but so much more. The work of the preceding synods involved representatives of the world’s episcopal conferences, extensive consultation and research over several years, and intense discussions during the synods themselves. All of this reflected both the importance of the challenges facing contemporary families and the diversity of pastoral responses needed to help them. As Cardinal Wuerl notes, “Many collaborators have worked to provide elements of a pastoral plan to implement this expression of the Papal Magisterium that follows on two gatherings of bishops, the 2014 Synod on the Pastoral Challenges of the Family in the Context of Evangelization and the 2015 Synod on the Vocation and Mission of the Family in the Church and in the Contemporary World” (Preface, 3).
There is a sense in which the right understanding of the work of both the 2014 and 2015 synods and their fruit, Amoris Laetitia, depends upon the recognition of this interactive dynamic between teaching, experiencing the teaching, and the living out of the teaching in light of how it is understood and able to be received. This recognition is perhaps the most challenging aspect of Amoris Laetitia. It calls for a conversion of heart. The minister is called to recognize that beyond the assurance of doctrinal statements he has to encounter the people entrusted to his care in the concrete situations they live and to accompany them on a journey of growth in the faith.
ACCOMPANIMENT
The Cardinal outlines the approach of his Pastoral Plan in terms of accompaniment, which is of course, a major theme of Amoris Laetitia itself. The theme of pastoral accompaniment is, indeed, the foundation and the goal of the entire Plan. The Cardinal writes,
Not every marriage, however, goes forward with “they lived happily ever after.” In fact, for many, in our heavily secular culture today, there is little understanding of the true nature of love, marriage, commitment, and self-giving which are all part of the Catholic vision of love. Yet, while their lives and experiences may have drawn many far away from the Church’s message, we are all the more called to reach out to them, to invite and accompany them on the journey that should help bring them to the joy of love that is also the joy of the Church.
He reminds us that we must approach everyone “with humility and compassion,” remembering that all the baptized are members of Christ’s body, and that we are all brothers and sisters to one another, regardless of circumstance. He recalls the invitation of Pope Francis “to value the gifts of marriage and family. . . (and) to encourage everyone to be a sign of mercy and closeness wherever family life remains imperfect or lacks peace and joy” (AL, 5).
The Cardinal directs that the implementation of Amoris Laetitia in the Archdiocese of Washington, DC be based on the following points.
First, it must begin with the Church’s teaching on love, marriage, family, faith and mercy. In particular, he points out that a key insight of the pope’s teaching was a proper understanding of the family “as the site of God’s revelation lived out in practice.” To this end, the Cardinal joins with Pope Francis in exhorting all ministers of the Archdiocese to a deeper knowledge and formation on marriage and family life. The richness of the Church’s teaching on marriage and family is a gift to be treasured and shared, especially in light of the many challenges faced by people in today’s world which can distract or even alienate people from each other and from loving commitments. However, the Cardinal points out, “our task is not complete if we only limit ourselves to faith statements. The goal is the salvation of souls and it is a far more complex effort than simply restating Church doctrine.”
Therefore, “it is essential to recognize that our teaching is received by individuals according to their own situation, experience and life. Whatever is received is received according to the ability of the receiver, to paraphrase Aristotle and Saint Thomas Aquinas. This is our starting point for pastoral ministry.” The Cardinal points out that this “interation” between the proclamation of the church’s teaching and the lived experience of those who hear that teaching was a critical insight from both of the synods.
There is a sense in which the right understanding of the work of both the 2014 and 2015 synods and their fruit, Amoris Laetitia, depends upon the recognition of this interactive dynamic between teaching, experiencing the teaching, and the living out of the teaching in light of how it is understood and able to be received. This recognition is perhaps the most challenging aspect of Amoris Laetitia. It calls for a conversion of heart. The minister is called to recognize that beyond the assurance of doctrinal statements he has to encounter the people entrusted to his care in the concrete situations they live and to accompany them on a journey of growth in the faith.
Here we see the master catechist at work. The Cardinal expresses the Church’s constant tradition that at the heart of our faith lies a relationship with Christ, and that one does not establish or nourish such a relationship without the conversion of the human heart. Teaching alone, as central as it is, will be heard and received within very different life situations, and he challenges all of us who minister “to encounter and to accompany” the people we serve where they are in their journey.
CONSCIENCE
Central to Amoris Laetitia and to this pastoral plan is the role of conscience. St. John Paul II referred to the conscience as “the ultimate concrete judgment” in Veritatis Splendor 63, while the Catechism of the Catholic Church (both of which are cited by Cardinal Wuerl) describes conscience as “a judgment of reason by which the human person recognizes the moral quality of a concrete act” (CCC, 1796). Therefore, stressing always fidelity to the Church’s teaching on marriage and family along with the pastoral awareness of how that teaching “is being received or even able to be perceived,” there is something more. “An equally important part of our Catholic faith is the recognition that personal culpability rests with the individual. We have always made the distinction between objective wrong and personal or subjective culpability.” The Cardinal continues:
Our personal culpability of any of us does not depend solely on exposure to the teaching. It is not enough simply to hear the teaching. Each of us has to be helped to grasp it and appropriate it. We have to have “experiential” and not just “objective” moral knowledge, to use the language of Saint John Paul II. . . . Our consideration of our standing before God recognizes all these elements. We cannot enter the soul of another and make that judgment for someone else. As Pope Francis teaches, “We have been called to form consciences, not to replace them” (AL, 37).
The Cardinal’s treatment of “conscience” is, for me, a highlight of the pastoral plan, since it is at the level of conscience that our pastoral activity will be centered, and I hope that everyone will study this section reflectively and carefully.
Many will be curious about the question of the possibility of divorced-and-remarried persons receiving Communion, so let me address this in more detail. This question itself is not specifically addressed in the Plan. However, much as the treatment of the subject in Amoris Laetitia, I do not find this particularly troubling, for the following reasons. Traditional Catholic teaching has always stressed a balanced approach between objective moral principles and subjective moral culpability. There is nothing new in this, and the current Catechism of the Catholic Church repeats it clearly (see, for example, paragraphs 1857-1859). What prevents us from receiving communion is being in a state of mortal sin. The tradition holds that for a sin to mortal, “three conditions must together be met: grave matter which is also committed with full knowledge and deliberate consent.” The Catechism continues, “Grave matter is specified by the Ten Commandments, corresponding to the answer of Jesus to the rich young man: ‘Do not kill, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not bear false witness, do not defraud, honor your father and your mother. . . .” But mortal sin is more than an objectively grave act. “Mortal sin [also] requires full knowledge and complete consent. It presupposes knowledge of the sinful character of the act, of its opposition to God’s law. It also implies a consent sufficiently deliberate to be a personal choice” (CCC, 1857-1859).
What Cardinal Wuerl has done is to echo this traditional teaching. How one forms one’s conscience is a complex matrix involving experience, formation, and discernment guided by one’s pastor. Objective moral principles are one thing, but a person’s moral culpability for those acts or omissions is another, since “full knowledge” and “complete consent” are subjective issues. The state of one’s soul before God, then, is deeply personal between the person and God, which again is the traditional teaching of the Church. The decisions a person makes under the guidance of a pastor are matters of a deeply internal spiritual nature and can vary from person to person. The responsibilities of a pastor in these matters are most crucial and weighty, and the Cardinal stresses all of this in the document. No one answer will suffice in every case. He writes, “Here Amoris Laetitia confirms the longstanding teaching of the Church and encourages pastors to see through the lens of Christ’s mercy and compassion rather than through a rigorous legalism.” He continues:
Pastoral dialogue and accompaniment involve the development of conscience and also the expression of a level of support or confirmation for the judgment the individual is making about the state of his soul or her soul. That judgment is the act of the individual and is the basis for their accountability before God.
In practice, this means that while some may be secure in their understanding and appropriation of the faith and the call of the Christian way of life, not all of our spiritual family can say the same thing. Even how we receive and understand the faith and its impact on our lives varies according to our situation, circumstances and life experiences.
While some people might prefer that both Amoris Laetitia and this Pastoral Plan might more directly “answer the question” about the reception of communion, such a response would not respect the primacy of the individual conscience under the guidance of the Church’s pastors, and the traditional understanding of moral decision-making in the Catholic Church.
PRACTICAL CARE
Finally, as suggested by all that has gone before, the Plan offers very concrete resources for all those in pastoral ministry. A primary “resource” is, of course, the parish itself. The Plan suggests myriad ways in which various people within the parish might catechize, encourage, and accompany each other. The parish is “the home of pastoral accompaniment, where we can all experience the love and healing mercy of Jesus Christ.” The Cardinal directs that “Our parishes, as the place where people most experience the life of the Church, must be places of welcome, where everyone is invited, particularly anyone who might be disillusioned or disaffected by contemporary society or even by our faith community. The Church assures all that there is a place for everyone here in our spiritual home.”
The section on the parish is extremely practical, with suggestions on how the various members of the parish and pastoral team might create this “culture of accompaniment” for others. There are paragraphs for pastors and other priests, parish leaders and staffs, youth and young adults, engaged couples, newly married couples, young families, older couples and adults, and families in special circumstances. It is only here that I would have wished for just one addition to the text. Deacons are not mentioned in any context, and yet deacons, who are generally married with families of their own, are frequently engaged in ministries to couples preparing for marriage as well as other forms of family-related ministry. In one sense, of course, the words of encouragement offered by the Plan to pastors, priests and parish staffs can – and do! – apply to the deacons. Still, it does seem a missed opportunity to develop specific ways in which the diaconate, given its unique features within marriage and family life, might contribute to these ministries.
Finally, the last section of the plan offers a kind of “bibliography” of sources available from a variety of places, including the offices of the archdiocese itself, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, and various national and regional groups. The resources identified cover the waterfront and there is something for everyone, in every kind of need.
In short, this Pastoral Plan, while prepared for the Archdiocese of Washington, DC, is an excellent resource for Catholics everywhere, and I hope that other bishops will follow suit with similar initiatives in their own dioceses. This Plan reflects significant collaboration on the part of the archdiocesan staff as the Cardinal prepared this multi-layered pastoral response to Amoris Laetitia. I encourage everyone to read it, study it, and use it!
Since so many people are choosing to write to you, I thought I would too. Many of the letters you receive, at least those shared through the media, take you to task for one thing or another. I am writing for two reasons: to thank you for your leadership and courage, and to tell you that — despite what some are complaining about — I do not think anyone is “confused” by your actions, your teaching, and your writing. May I suggest that those who make that claim are using that language of “confusion” to mask the truth: that they just disagree with you.
Your writing and teaching are clear: you desire the Church to be an adult Church. By this I do not mean a Church only FOR adults, but a mature People of God, Mystical Body of Christ and Temple of the Holy Spirit. This should be a Church in which we deal with each other with compassion, maturity and an honest realization that people are generally trying to do the best they can despite the sometimes overwhelming challenges they face. Mature human beings come to realize that one-size-rarely-fits-all, and that we must use our God-given freedom of will in the best ways we can. Your Holiness, we all understand full well that there are absolutes in life, but we also understand that sometimes we are going to fall short and need to struggle on the best we can, always with the guidance of the Holy Spirit given to us all as children of God created in God’s own image and likeness.
No one is confused by this, Your Holiness. Your call to a mature Christianity echoes the voice of the world’s bishops assembled in solemn Council:
Coming forth from the eternal Father’s love, founded in time by Christ the Redeemer and made one in the Holy Spirit, the Church has a saving and an eschatological purpose which can be fully attained only in the future world. But she is already present in this world, and is composed of men, that is, of members of the earthly city who have a call to form the family of God’s children during the present history of the human race, and to keep increasing it until the Lord returns. . . . Thus the Church, simultaneously ‘a visible association and a spiritual community,’ goes forward together with humanity and experiences the same earthly lot which the world does. She serves as a leaven and as a kind of soul for human society as it is to be renewed in Christ and transformed into God’s family (Gaudium et spes, #40.
There is nothing “confusing” in any of this, except for those who wish to be confused. They seem afraid of the unknown, the sometimes grayness of life. As Christ often chided his first followers, and your illustrious predecessors have often repeated, “Be not afraid”, and “Put out into the deep!” As we sailors know only too well, this often means that while we want to steer a true course, we must often trim our sails and tack in order to take full advantage of the wind and sea. My sisters and brothers who write to you of “confusion”, however, seem to long for a world — and the Church within that world — which has the clarity of a black-and-white photograph. The reality of the world is color-full, however, admitting all the colors God created. As the Council reminds us, we as Church have a “saving and eschatological purpose” which will only be fully realized in Paradise. The Second Vatican Council (much like your own teaching) is accused by some observers for being “overly optimistic” or for using “ambiguous” language. Nothing could be further from the truth of the matter, as you well know, Holiness. This is not ambiguity but mature and conscientious adaptability; not naive optimism, but well-founded Christian hope.
And so I thank you again, Holiness. Thank you for your clarity of thought and expression. Thank you for your courage and strength of leadership. Thank you for your joyful witness to the transforming power of the Holy Spirit in our lives as individuals and as Church.
Sincerely in Christ,
Deacon Bill
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Deacon William T. Ditewig, Ph.D., Archdiocese of Washington, DC
Commander, USN (ret.)
Professor of Theology, and former Executive Director, USCCB Secretariat for the Diaconate and Interim Executive Director, USCCB Secretariat for Evangelization
Jesuit Father Thomas Reese has published an interesting piece over at NCRonline entitled “Women Deacons? Yes. Deacons? Maybe.” I have a lot of respect for Fr. Tom, and I thank him for taking the time to highlight the diaconate at this most interesting time. As the apostolic Commission prepares to assemble to discuss the question of the history of women in diaconal ministry, it is good for all to remember that none of this is happening in a vacuum. IF women are eventually ordained as deacons in the contemporary Church, then they will be joining an Order of ministry that has developed much over the last fifty years. Consider one simple fact: In January 1967 there were zero (0) “permanent” deacons in the Latin Rite of the Catholic Church (the last two lived and died in the 19th Century). Today there are well over 40,000 deacons serving worldwide. By any numerical measure, this has to be seen as one of the great success stories of the Second Vatican Council. Over the last fifty years, then, the Church has learned much about the nature of this renewed order, its exercise, formation, assignment and utilization. The current question, therefore, rests upon a foundation of considerable depth, while admitting that much more needs to be done.
However, Father Reese’s column rests on some commonly-held misperceptions and errors of fact regarding the renewal of the diaconate. Since these errors are often repeated without challenge or correction, I think we need to make sure this foundation is solid lest we build a building that is doomed to fall down. So, I will address some of these fault lines in the order presented:
The“Disappearance” of Male Deacons
Father states that “[Women deacons] disappeared in the West around the same time as male deacons.” On the contrary, male deacons remained a distinct order of ministry (and one not automatically destined for the presbyterate) until at least the 9th Century in the West. This is attested to by a variety of sources. Certainly, throughout these centuries, many deacons — the prime assistants to bishops — were elected to succeed their bishops. Later in this period, as the Roman cursus honorum took hold more definitively, deacons were often ordained to the presbyterate, leading to what is incorrectly referred to as the “transitional” diaconate. However, both in a “permanent” sense and a “transitional” sense, male deacons never disappeared.
The Renewal of Diaconate as Third World Proposal
Father Tom writes that his hesitancy concerning the diaconate itself “is not with women deacons, but with the whole idea of deacons as currently practiced in the United States.” (I would suggest that this narrow focus misses the richness of the diaconate worldwide.) He then turns to the Council to provide a foundation for what follows. He writes, “The renewal of the diaconate was proposed at the Second Vatican Council as a solution to the shortage of native priests in missionary territories. In fact, the bishops of Africa said, no thank you. They preferred to use lay catechists rather than deacons.” This statement simply is not true and does not reflect the history leading up to the Council or the discussions that took place during the Council on the question of the diaconate.
As I and others have written extensively, the origins of the contemporary diaconate lie in the early 19th Century, especially in Germany and France. In fact there is considerable linkage between the early liturgical movement (such as the Benedictine liturgical reforms at Solesmes) and the early discussions about a renewed diaconate: both stemmed from a desire to increase participation of the faithful in the life of the Church, both at liturgy and in life. In Germany, frequent allusion was made to the gulf that existed between priests and bishops and their people. Deacons were discussed as early as 1840 as a possible way to reconnect people with their pastoral leadership. This discussion continued throughout the 19th Century and into the 20th. It became a common topic of the Deutschercaritasberband (the German Caritas organization) before and during the early years of the Nazi regime, and it would recur in the conversations held by priest-prisoners in Dachau. Following the war, these survivors wrote articles and books on the need for a renewed diaconate — NOT because of a priest shortage, but because of a desire to present a more complete image of Christ to the world: not only Christ the High Priest, but the kenotic Christ the Servant as well. As Father Joseph Komonchak famously quipped, “Vatican II did not restore the diaconate because of a shortage of priests but because of a shortage of deacons.”
Certainly, there was some modest interest in this question by missionary bishops before the Council. But it remained largely a European proposal. Consider some statistics. During the antepreparatory stage leading up to the Council (1960-1961), during which time close to 9,000 proposals were presented from the world’s bishops, deans of schools of theology, and heads of men’s religious congregations, 101 proposals concerned the possible renewal of the diaconate. Eleven of these proposals were against the idea of having the diaconate (either as a transitional or as a permanent order), while 90 were in favor of a renewed, stable (“permanent”) diaconate. Nearly 500 bishops from around the world supported some form of these 90 proposals, with only about 100 of them from Latin America and Africa. Nearly 400 bishops, almost entirely from both Western and Eastern Europe, were the principal proponents of a renewed diaconate (by the way, the bishops of the United States, who had not had the benefit of the century-long conversation about the diaconate, were largely silent on the matter, and the handful who spoke were generally against the idea). Notice how these statistics relate to Father Tom’s observation. First, the renewed diaconate was largely a European proposal, not surprising given the history I’ve outlined above. Second, notice that despite this fact, it is also wrong to say that “the African bishops said no thank you” to the idea. Large numbers of them wanted a renewed diaconate, and even today, the diaconate has been renewed in a growing number of African dioceses.
One other observation on this point needs to be made. No bishop whose diocese is suffering from a shortage of priests would suggest that deacons would be a suitable strategy. After all, as we all know, deacons do not celebrate Mass, hear confessions or anoint the sick. If a diocese needed more priests, they would not have turned to the diaconate. Yes, there was some discussion at the Council that deacons could be of assistance to priests, but the presumption was that there were already priests to hand.
In short, the myth that “the diaconate was a third world initiative due to a shortage of priests” simply has never held up, despite its longstanding popularity.
Deacons as Part-Time Ministers
Father cites national statistics that point out that deacons are largely unpaid, “most of whom make a living doing secular work.” “Why,” he asks, “are we ordaining part-time ministers and not full-time ministers?”
Let’s break this down. First, there never has been, nor will there ever be, a “part-time deacon.” We’re all full-time ministers. Here’s the problem: Because the Catholic Church did not have the advantage of the extensive conversation on diaconate that was held in other parts of the world, we have not fully accepted the notion that ministry extends BEYOND the boundaries of the institutional church itself. Some of the rationale behind the renewal of the diaconate in the 19th Century and forward has been to place the Church’s sacred ministers in places where the clergy had previously not been able to go! Consider the “worker-priest” movement in France. This was based on a similar desire to extend the reach of the Church’s official ministry outside of the parish and outside of the sanctuary. However, if we can only envision “ministry” as something that takes place within the sanctuary or within the parish, then we miss a huge point of the reforms of the Second Vatican Council and, I would suggest, the papal magisterium of Pope Francis. The point of the diaconate is to extend the reach of the bishop into places the bishop can’t normally be present. That means that no matter what the deacon is doing, no matter where the deacon is working or serving, the deacon is ministering to those around him.
We seem to understand this when we speak about priests, but not about deacons. When a priest is serving in some specialized work such as president of a university, or teaching history or social studies or science at a high school, we would never suggest that he is a “part-time” minister. Rather, we would correctly say that it is ALL ministry. Deacons take that even further, ministering in our various workplaces and professions. It was exactly this kind of societal and cultural leavening that the Council desired with regard to the laity and to the ordained ministry of the deacon. The bottom line is that we have to expand our view of what we mean by the term “ministry”!
“Laypersons can do everything a deacon can do“
Father writes, “But the truth is that a layperson can do everything that a deacon can do.” He then offers some examples. Not so fast.
Not unlike the previous point, this is a common misperception. However, it is only made if one reduces “being a deacon” to the functions one performs. Let’s ponder that a moment. We live in a sacramental Church. This means that there’s more to things than outward appearances. Consider the sacrament of matrimony. Those of us who are married know that there is much, much more to “being married” than simply the sum of the functions associated with marriage. Those who are priests or bishops know that there is more to who they are as priests and bishops than simply the sum of what they do. So, why can’t they see that about deacons? There is more to “being deacon” than simply the sum of what we do. And, frankly, do we want priests to stop visiting the sick in hospitals or the incarcerated in prisons simply because a lay person can (and should!) be doing that? Shall we have Father stop being a college professor because now we have lay people who can do that? Shall we simply reduce Father to the sacraments over which he presides? What a sacramentally arid Church we would become!
The fact is, there IS a difference when a person does something as an ordained person. Thomas Aquinas observed that an ordained person acts in persona Christi et in nomine Ecclesiae — in the person of Christ and in the name of the Church. There is a public and permanent dimension to all ordained ministry that provides the sacramental foundation for all that we try to do in the name of the Church. We are more than the sum of our parts, we are more than the sum of our functions.
“We have deacons. . . because they get more respect”
With all respect to a man I deeply admire, I expect that most deacons who read this part of the column are still chuckling. Yes, I have been treated with great respect by most of the people with whom I’ve served, including laity, religious, priests and bishops. On the other hand, the experience of most deacons does not sustain Father’s observation. The fact is, most people, especially if they’re not used to the ministry of deacons, don’t associate deacons with ordination. I can’t tell the number of times that I’ve been asked by someone, “When will you be ordained?” — meaning ordination to the priesthood. They know I am a deacon, but, as some people will say, “but that one really doesn’t count, does it?” I had another priest once tell me, “Being a deacon isn’t a real vocation like the priesthood.” If it’s respect a person is after “beyond their competence” (to quote Father Reese), then it’s best to avoid the diaconate.
No, the truth is that we have deacons because the Church herself is called to be deacon to the world (cf. Paul VI). Just as we are a priestly people who nonetheless have ministerial priests to help us actualize our priestly identity, so too we have ministerial deacons to help us actualize our ecclesial identity as servants to and in the world. To suggest that we have deacons simply because of issues of “respect” simply misses the point of 150 years of theological and pastoral reflection on the nature of the Church and on the diaconate.
In all sincerity, I thank Father Reese for his column on the diaconate, and I look forward to the ongoing conversation about this exciting renewed order of ministry of our Church.
“Call me Ishmael. . . . Whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul. . . I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can; I quietly take to the ship." -- Herman Melville