Of all a
Christian's
conflicts, the most difficult combats are those of
chastity;
wherein the fight is a daily one,
but victory rare. - St.
Augustine
Is celibacy is a living, life giving, viable way of life
and service? Or is celibacy the greatest sexual
perversion—a defiance of scriptural directive? Is it the
source of sanctity or is it hypocrisy in the service of
power and control?
The answer to all those questions is clearly, Yes.
Paradoxes and ambiguity have always surrounded religious
celibacy—no more so at any time than today. It has been
extolled in grandiloquent terms such as a state of
perfection and
mystagogical—a
mystical reality unreasonable, unnatural and
excessive angelic
and
unexplainable.
The
ideal to be “like Christ” who was thought to be celibate
(based on tradition not biblical evidence) is an
unquestionably noble goal. Celibacy can be lived in the
service of humanity—in being persons for others.
Some men and women from the time of the Fathers of the
Desert to the present have pursued the practice of
celibacy with remarkable productive results.
Celibate men and women (in a number of religious
traditions) have inspired many including me to live as
fully as possible because they live fully. They serve
unstintingly in parishes, missions, and schools as
teachers, scholars, artists, scientists, and spiritual
leaders pointing the way to spiritual realities and a
righteous, reasonable life.
Celibacy has also served as an empty moniker bespeaking
a status and power that covers a deceptive sexual life
from understandable missteps to wanton relationships and
criminal assaults.
The history of celibate violation and pretense is as old
as the ideal and practice itself.
I would
much prefer to spend my energy in tracing the histories
of successful and dedicated celibates like those that C.
Colt Anderson describes—those who have contributed to
building spiritual, physical, personal, and cultural
monuments of eternal value—than to explore the failures,
betrayals, and hypocrisies perpetrated by some clergy
who only posed as celibates. Even the histories of this
latter group create a challenge since their service can
have survived in spite of corruption, contamination,
duplicity, and hypocrisy, as we shall see.
I have
a vocation. In many ways it is a biblical commission. I
went where I wanted as a young man, but as I grew up
another bound me where and led me where I was reluctant
to go.* So be it. I have looked around for models. St.
Benedict was a natural candidate. I spent 24 years and
more living in his tradition. It is a magnificent
heritage and a great and lasting ideal. I experience it
now it is corrupt and in need of reform. But it is a
beacon of hope because it has led the church to so many
reforms before.
Luther
occurred to me. A confessor once said I was like him. I
was anxious, troubled, and humiliated when he said it,
but now I mark it as a badge of worth. But I have
settled on Peter Damian as my spiritual mentor. Our
times and his are so similar concerning sexual problems
of the clergy. And the crisis that he spoke to resonate
in the halls of power. He held men in authority
responsible for the behavior (and education) of the
offending clergy. That is not something that even Pope
Benedict XVI is yet willing to speak to or intervene.
I have
had to console my self with the thought that I have to
be like a cardiologist. As much as he would like to
extol the wonders of the heart—even its symbolism and
its prominence in poetry spend all of his time to
promote healthy heart education—he can do so only if he
also masters the dysfunctions of the organ in all its
variations. The heart is critical to a human life; it
can have many defects and some impaired function and
still avoid death for a time. But a malfunctioning heart
with affect the whole body.
This is
the situation in the Catholic Church today. Celibacy is
at the heart of religious life and the priesthood (as it
is established today). And that heart is in distress.
Will a married priesthood cure what ails the heart of
ministry? I will not enter that discussion; but the
dysfunctional Body of Christ is more compromised than
any administrative declaration can cure. Father Michael
Crosby, one of the wisest commentators on the health of
the church, has delivered his prognosis decades ago.
Like it
or not, celibacy is the measure of the health or illness
of the clerical body of Christ. Fundamental distinctions
about celibacy demand recognition and discourse.
FIRST: Celibacy is a
vocation in and of itself
Celibacy has been so wedded to Catholic priesthood
especially in the aftermath of the Protestant
Reformation that some think that it is identical with
the clerical state. Even some sophisticated Catholics
identify priest
with celibate.
True that each priest is publicly presented as bound to
strict sexual abstinence. Not so in practice. Celibacy
is a prior vocation that the Vatican has decreed must be
pledged and embraced if a man presents himself for
ordination to the priesthood.
There
are experienced voices within the clergy like Fr.
Michael Crosby7
and Fr. Donald Cozzens8
that argue powerfully against mandatory celibacy for
Catholic priests. Their arguments are rational and
strong—and in contradiction of Popes who have said that
even they are not capable of reversing that requirment.9
The people of God—and Popes— have not heard the last of
this critical debate.
Pope
Paul VI referred to celibacy as a “brilliant jewel whose
value remains undiminished.”10
There is truth in this statement. Celibacy is one of
those “pearls of great price” of which Jesus speaks. But
few priests—and the church itself—have not been willing
to anti up to fully invest in it.
I have
sympathy for the cause of a married priesthood and great
empathy for those clergy and lay people who advocate,
agitate, and demonstrate for the abrogation of mandated
celibacy, and who crusade for the ordination of women
and married men. These are praiseworthy undertakings.
But I have never felt it was my primary calling to be a
campaigner for these timely causes. My training
predisposed me to try and understand the reality that
currently prevails—priests
who are bound by celibacy. My efforts have been directed
to aid them in their pursuits, relieve their suffering
where possible, and help them remove impediments to
their celibate striving and counteract the adverse
consequences of failed attempts. All my labors have been
invested in understanding every aspect of religious
celibacy. I am struck by the absence, inadequate, or
faulty training for celibacy men undergo in seminaries
and religious houses.
The
church is reprehensible in demanding this prior vocation
as a requirement for ordination to the priesthood
without giving adequate consideration and training to
celibacy. Notwithstanding protestations to the contrary
that run the gambit from “the system of seminary
structure with prayer, confessors and spiritual
direction teaches celibacy” (by Archbishop Daniel
Pilarczyk 1986) to the more current justification,
“seminarians do go through an intense instruction on
celibacy in classroom and retreats…months before they
are ordained, these men put themselves through some
intense scrutiny” (by a theology professor 2008) no
seminary or religious house yet has introduced a
sequence of training to meet the real need that the
practice deserves.
Second: There are several approaches to the task of
understanding religious celibacy.
Third: The problem of “Dirty Laundry.”
Fourth: The
clerical system is sick.
Fifth: An
indictment of good clergy.
Sixth: The
solutions at hand.