
Carpe Diem
Seizing the opportunity
The recent constant beat upon the sexual abuses by
clergy has exposed a festering wound in the church at large. And if that doesn’t damage the faith of the
Catholic faithful, it does at least put questions or wonderments into their
minds which need to be addressed. As I
with thousands of other priests have been looking out at you all these recent
Sundays, almost with a sense of guilt by association, I feel that I owe you all
some words on the subject. To pretend
the problem isn’t there is part of the problem in the first place. To ignore the problem is not to do the
justice that I owe you.
My words aren’t the last words on the subject;
there’s always more that could be said. If you don’t believe it, get a
subscription to the Milwaukee Journal. My words aren’t infallible
either, even though I have thought it out, read it out, listened it out, talked
it out, especially with people in the pews.
My words also aren’t the only words to be heard on the issue, for you
too, God’s people, have something to say on the matter. But since Sunday Mass
is not the place for a town meeting, I’m the only one who will be speaking on
the issue from this podium today.
The most valuable service that I can render you,
God’s people, and your faith at this moment is not the disservice of “damage
control” (that’s part of the problem in the first place) but rather the service
of challenging the Catholic assembly to think -- to think discerning thoughts about the issue at hand. Those are thoughts that take time out to
read, to discuss, and to listen. Those are thoughts that save us from knee-jerk
reactions to the problem and knee-jerk discussions of it.
“Thought with discernment” at the present moment, means especially discerning the various voices that are speaking in the great debate before us. Those voices are many; they come from various directions and they have many different agenda. Discern first of all the voices of the victims and what it is they’re seeking. Discern the voices in high places practicing either damage control or rightful self-defense. Discern the voices of lawyers pursuing either justice or recompense. Discern the competent or incompetent voices of psychologists whose expertise can shed light upon a complex subject.
Discern the voices of the media whose task is to
bring us news for the sake of news and not for some other reason. Discern the voices of those whose morality
is limited to sex and those whose morality embraces not only sex but also
Enron. Discern the voices of a lawyer
for the prosecution and that of a Christian from whom is expected forgiveness
even for an offender. Discern the voices of the ordinary run of human beings
out there contributing either their ignorance to the debate or their
honest-to-God, down-to-earth, intuitive, good judgment. Discern the voices of
Catholics with thousands of their priests who are embarrassed or angry or
saddened. And yes, discern even the voices of anti-papists out there who might
still be fighting the Reformation. And finally discern the voices of believers,
who believe “though they have not seen” and who are called blessed for still
believing (Jn 20:29). These last
voices believe not in popes or bishops or priests or victims or experts
or lawyers or psychiatrists, but they believe in Jesus Christ.
The present debate is filled with all these
different voices, and they all have to be listened to with discriminating ears.
The invitation “to thought with discernment” calls us to discern the many
voices working away at our problem.
Now the problem at hand is a “scandal.” Not all
problems are scandals. If the pipe under your kitchen sink is leaking, you have
a problem on hand but you don’t have a scandal. Culture pretty much calls a problem a scandal if it is about sex.
The problem of Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky was a scandal simply because it
was about sex. The problem of Gary Condit and Chandra Levy was a scandal simply
because it might have been about sex. And we recall how the Clinton scandal
consumed two years of the nation’s time, money and energy, and how it
practically brought the US Congress to a standstill on the business of the
people. We recall also how the daily news about the Condit scandal so bored us
to death with its non-news that 9/11 (excuse the blasphemy) came almost as a
relief.
If those problems had not been about sex, they
wouldn’t have hung around so long, and wouldn’t have gotten such wide coverage
on the front page of the Milwaukee Journal. The media often has in mind what sells well and what’s good for
readership. The problem of campaign
finance reform is the most serious problem threatening ”government of the
people, by the people, and for the people” (instead of government of, by, and
for the corporations). But it doesn’t “read well” so it gets only a momentary
spot on page six.
Now our problem is not only a scandal, it is also a
crisis. Crisis comes from the Greek krisis
meaning “a turning point.” So krinein (the verb form of crisis
in Greek) means “to decide.” Crisis is
a moment in a journey when we come to a fork in the road, “a turning point,”
which forces us “to decide.” Crisis is almost always regarded negatively, as
when we cry out, “Oh my God! We’ve got a crisis on our hands!” But in Buddhist mystical psychology a great
crisis or some keen loss always precedes a very deep enlightenment. It sends us
spiraling down to a center point deep within where, finally, God is met. Crisis as a moment of decision is really
also a moment of opportunity – a moment which shouts out to us in an old
Latin proverb, “Carpe diem!” i.e. “Seize the moment!” “Seize the opportunity
that beckons!” “Seize the enlightenment that beckons!”
It is no secret for us Roman Catholics that the
church became quite corrupt in its clergy and institutions during the Middle
Ages, and that corruption reached crisis proportions by the Sixteenth Century.
In 1517 Martin Luther appeared on the scene and kicked off the Protestant
Reformation. That crisis, that moment
of decision, forced the church to summon the Council of Trent (1545-1563) which
kicked off the Counter-Reformation. Trent became “a turning point.” The crisis of the Reformation became a great
moment of opportunity for the Catholic Church.
The problem is a scandal and the problem is also a
crisis. That raises a question: Upon
what should we be expending the greater part of our time and energy? Upon the
scandal or upon the crisis? What should we be emphasizing? The scandal or the
crisis? When we put the emphasis on
the scandal, the debate becomes possessed by all sorts of evil spirits – those
same evil spirits which haunted the
whole Clinton-Lewinsky scandal, and kept it endlessly alive: the spirit of
partisanship, the spirit of hypocrisy, the spirit of self-righteousness, the
spirit of blame, the spirit of “pay-back, the spirit of “gottcha.”
Archbishop Tarcisio Bertone, secretary of the
Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith in Rome says, “The church is worried
about the problem, but also worried about the scandal provoked by news
reports.” When the emphasis is upon the scandal, then people in high places
find themselves involved in all sorts of defensive postures and
maneuverings. It’s the gnawing sense of
scandal that goads the church to “damage control” which feeds the sense of
secrecy in the church.
Here’s some good advice for all of us: Let’s kill
the sense of scandal within ourselves by taking to heart the profound truth
contained in the words of psychiatrist Harry Stack Sullivan; “We are much
more simply human than anything else.” Believe that, and we kill the sense
of scandal in our selves. “We are much more simply human than anything else.”
Believe that, and we free our selves
from the burden of damage control and
secrecy. “We are much more simply human than anything else.” Believe
that, and we are freed to be open, honest, and transparent.
The picture changes dramatically when we put the
emphasis not upon the scandal but upon the crisis. The picture changes dramatically when we invest ourselves, our
time and energy, not in the scandal but in the crisis, in the moment of
decision and the moment of opportunity that beckons.
The present crisis is not just about pedophilia but also about many other issues all wrapped up in one ball. So we must not approach the crisis piecemeal, as though it were simply a problem of a few delinquent priests. The crisis is not just personal; it is systemic. There is a crisis in the system, in the institution, in the very church itself.
The present crisis is an institutional crisis
calling for institutional decisions, like a decision about power in the
church. Though it won’t get a prize as “Statement of the Year,” I am going
to say it anyway: society is male-ridden and male-protecting; so is the church.
Society is dominated by a patriarchal attitude; so is the church. Why just the
other day I saw that attitude splashed all over the back of one of the
city’s buses in a paid ad which
reads, “We follow the Pope. If he doesn’t know the way, who does?” Paid for by
Catholic bookstores. How demeaning that
is to make us feel as though our
thoughts don’t count! How cruel that is to place the whole great burden of
thought upon the shoulders of one old man! That patriarchal attitude in the
church provides an atmosphere in which one person or one group with power
exploits those without power. That
strikes at the very heart of pedophilia. That patriarchal imbalance of power in
the church is connected also to “the problem of women in the church,” and that
is an issue which is far greater than just the ordination of women.
The present crisis is an institutional one; it’s
about power in the Church. The present moment calls for a decision. The present
moment is filled with beckoning opportunity.
The present crisis is an institutional crisis
calling for institutional decisions, like a decision about secrecy in the
church. In order to avoid scandal,
people in power in the church are tempted to do what mothers and fathers are
tempted to do: they resort to secrecy in order to protect “family secrets.” (I
myself in my more unenlightened days might have done that.) It’s a form of patriarchal thinking, which
robs God’s people of their right to think and judge for themselves, and it also
provides protection for offenders, and for sons and daughters.
The present crisis is an institutional one; it’s
about secrecy in the church. The present moment calls for a decision. The
present moment is filled with beckoning opportunity.
The present crisis is an institutional crisis
calling for institutional decisions, like a decision about celibacy in the
church. Celibacy means the unmarried state. It has been the
requirement for the Roman Catholic priesthood since the 10th
century. Pope St. Gregory the Great enforced it upon the clergy because the
married clergy of that day was passing off church property as inheritance to
their offspring. The Pope solved the problem by making the clergy celibate. So
celibacy is more a discipline than it is a virtue. Chastity on the other hand is a virtue and it applies not just to priests but also to all of us,
married or unmarried. Though celibacy is not a
“downright” cause of pedophilia, there is some good suspicion that the
two are in some way related, though it’s agreed that getting rid of it, or at
least making it optional, isn’t going to automatically solve our problem.
The present crisis is an institutional one; it’s
also about celibacy in the church. The present moment calls for a decision. The
present moment is filled with beckoning opportunity.
The present crisis is an institutional crisis
calling for institutional decisions, like a decision about sexuality in the
church. Eugene Kennedy used to be a
Catholic priest twenty-five years ago. He has now been happily married for
twenty-five years. He was and is a very enlightened psychologist. Back in those days, he headed a panel
commissioned by the US Catholic bishops to study the American priesthood. Writing in connection with the present
crisis, he rejects an image of human personality that is prevalent in the
church -- an image which, he writes, “has caused many and decent people to feel
guilty for being human and for having sexual feelings and longings.” That image, he writes, “graven as any in a
pagan temple,” sees the spirit as good and the body as bad. It sees body and soul, flesh and spirit as
engaged in one constant battle ending only in death. Kennedy calls that prevalent perception of human personality
and sexuality wrong on all counts. It
has caused, he writes, ”great and unnecessary suffering in a world which has
never had a shortage of pain.” He
speaks of the “wounds that have been kept open for centuries because of the
official church’s distorted perception of human sexuality.”
Kennedy who has listened to people for many years
both as a former priest and as a
clinical psychologist writes,
“When you hear good people speak honestly about their lives, whether
they are priests, professors or private eyes, you are more touched by the
poignancy (the sharply painful feelings) in their accounts than you are appalled
by the problems of their sexual experiences.
You emerge,” he writes,
“blinking into the day light, feeling the profound truth contained in
the words of psychiatrist Harry Stack Sullivan: `We are much more simply
human than anything else.’”
He says he looks with great sympathy on all men and
women, and thinks the church should do everything it can, as Pope John XXIII
said, to make the human sojourn on earth less painful and sad. Making celibacy optional, he thinks, would
help. Affirming that flesh and spirit
are not in hopeless warfare with each other would help even more. Doing
everything to support people, he writes, as they search for love would be the
best of all.
The present
crisis is an institutional one; it’s also about sexuality in the church. The
present moment calls for a decision. The present moment is filled with
beckoning opportunity.
Wow! What a huge
crisis we have in the church. Wow!
What a huge moment for decisions in the church about power, about women,
about secrecy, about celibacy, about sexuality. Wow! What a huge moment of opportunity beckoning the church. Opportunity – where and when?
Betsy Conway, a Sister of St. Joseph from Boston,
is quoted as saying, “Some of us are angry, some have empathy for Cardinal
Bernard Law, but all of us are wondering whether it is now time for Vatican
III.” Good Pope John XXIII, who has a
magnificent statue of himself in the new cathedral, positioned in a very
prominent place, summoned Vatican II forty years ago. That Council made it
possible for us to be speaking as we are at this very moment. That Council put the church into a position
where it can now muster up enough honesty and courage to summon Vatican III,
and there make the decisions that have to be made, and there seize the moment
that is pregnant with beckoning opportunity.
The time is particularly ripe for Vatican III, for
at this moment the Roman Catholic bishops feel chastened as never before, feel
vulnerable as never before, feel humbled as never before. Such feelings rob you of a sense of power,
they grace you with humility, and they open you up to change of heart and mind,
and to the opportunity that beckons.
Listen once more to sister Besty Conway: “I am as
hopeful as I have ever been for the church. Something powerful is happening.
This is a new moment. It’s tragic what has brought us here, but we are here and
no one wants to go back. There is a lot hope, a feeling that we are on the
brink of something, and we are just holding our breaths. “