It’s been a while since I’ve posted here … after returning to Brownsville, I was on an 8-day silent retreat at Loyola on the Potomac in Faulkner, MD, then spending a few days visiting with my soon-to-be novice master, and am now visiting family before starting up the academic year again. But a lot has happened within the Church since that time, and I feel some obligation to write about it, as emotions are (very understandably) running high, and it seems like a fitting time to bring some things together.
Sexual Abuse Crisis
July 28 marked one of the worst days in the sexual abuse crisis that the Catholic Church had faced, when Theodore McCarrick resigned from the College of Cardinals after credible reports surfaced about his abuse of a minor and several adults, especially during his days as a seminary rector in New Jersey. This was the most personal the abuse crisis has been for me — I had met McCarrick on a couple of occasions and been to several Masses that he celebrated. He had struck me as a good, kind man and a good preacher. Clearly, he had me (and much of the rest of the Church) fooled. The McCarrick scandal also highlights one of the great failures of the Church’s 2002 response to the sexual abuse crisis: a lack of accountability for bishops. The American Catholic Bishops created a comprehensive plan for abuse prevention and clear standards for dealing with priests and deacons accused of abuse. As someone who is bound by these standards, I can tell you that they are fairly strict. They include:
- Spending literally days being analyzed and questioned by psychologists and psychiatrists to determine if I was a threat to children (or had other psychological issues that would prevent me from exercising ministry).
- Spending days of training on abuse prevention — including listening to abusers talk about the process of grooming children for abuse.
- Being bound by strict diocesan policies (that change slightly in every diocese) that require me to report to ecclesial and civil authorities even the slightest suspicion of abuse (this includes, by the way, being required to report abuse even if the victim is now an adult).
- Background checks, social media checks, and drug testing.
- In certain dioceses, not being permitted to close a door when somebody comes to meet with you.
- Windows everywhere to make sure that anywhere where a priest/deacon/religious might meet with somebody is never actually private.
The Church did a lot … but they never created standards for dealing with bishops accused of abuse. Admittedly, it is nebulous whether a conference of bishops actually has the canonical authority to create such a policy, but at this point, it doesn’t matter. Change some damn canons if you have to. Accountability for bishops needs to happen immediately. While the latest press release from the USCCB does seem to outline a good start, we (the people of the Church — laity, religious, seminarians, and clergy) need to demand more. As the National Catholic Reporter editorial so strongly put it:
The revelations of the last two months make undeniably clear that it is time for the laity to reclaim our ownership of this church. We are the body of Christ, we are the church. It is time that we demand that bishops claim their true vocations as servants to the people of God. And they must live that way.
At this time, it seems laity can do very little to effect the changes needed to bring about the solutions to the large issues that plague the church now — careerism, abuse of power, lack of transparency, no accountability. The fact is laypeople in our church today have little power.
That said, as any community organizer would tell you, we have the power of the collective. Now more than ever, we — the laity — need to speak with a united voice. We must turn our anger into resolve.
It is shocking that after decades of revelations of sexual abuse of children, there is still no clear accountability for bishops. We must demand change.
First, tell our bishops that we no longer trust them, individually or collectively. The trust we may have had is now shattered.
Second, tell our bishops that regaining our trust requires reform in how the church as an institution operates.
This is not the time to play defense. This is the time to acknowledge the horror and scale of this atrocity. While many of the Pennsylvania cases do stem from prior to 2002 (thus prior to the plan most recently enacted to deal with this crisis), at the very least, this is a moment to renew our shame, sorrow, and righteous anger with the Church, and to ask what we — individually and collectively — can do. No more shying away, no more not coming forward. Real honesty and transparency, not in press releases, but in real life.
On Homosexuality
While everyone is scrambling around to find people to blame and solutions to make this better, invariably some in the Catholic world seem to find this an appropriate time to hit on their favorite punching bag: homosexuality. Let’s be really, really clear about something from the beginning: homosexuality has absolutely nothing to do with the sexual abuse of children. That is not up for debate. Move on.
While I haven’t seen too many people directly blaming the abuse crisis on homosexuality (recently), this article from Fr. Dominic Legge OP seems to suggest that we will all be better off if we just stop admitting men with predominantly same-sex attraction into the priesthood. Now, to give credit to Fr. Legge, he is absolutely write that sexually-active clergy are a stain on the Church, and that their crimes do perhaps rise to the level of sacrilege. He’s also right that any “networks” of sexually active, homosexual priests need to be shut down immediately. He’s not right that those with “deep-seated same-sex attraction” should not be admitted as candidates for priesthood or religious life (depending, of course, how you define the nature of this attraction).
Here’s why he’s wrong: we’re not judged by our thoughts or by our attractions. They aren’t sinful. Homosexual attractions may be “disordered,” but only in that the homosexual act can never fulfill the telos of the conjugal act of man and woman that is both procreative and unitive. In the same way, if I am drawn to lust (after either a man or a woman), my attraction is disordered; it’s oriented towards empty pleasure, not towards the proper telos of sex. Similarly, if I’m drawn to drink or eat too much, this desire is disordered; it’s not ordered towards healthy enjoyment and nourishment, but towards drunkenness and gluttony. Thoughts and attractions are not things for which we can judge another person, and they certainly cannot be permitted to stand in the way of fulfilling an invitation to a vocation given by God. In short, if one senses that God is inviting that person to a religious vocation (and God calls all manner of people into this life), then are we really supposed to suggest that a person’s thoughts and attractions — and not actions — could disqualify them? Do we really think we know better than the God that invites them to consider this vocation?
Past behavior is the best indicator of future behavior. Somebody dealing with same-sex attraction — but who has been living chastely for a significant period of time — should not be told that their thoughts and feelings should keep them from this vocation. People of all sexual orientations struggle with chastity. The primary question for determining suitability of entering a celibate vocation is: do your patterns of behavior show that you are becoming more and more chaste, and that you could live this life without acting out in unhealthy ways? If the answer is yes, there does not need to be any more thought given to the matter.
Yesterday, First Things published a similar article by Daniel Mattson: “Why Men Like Me Shouldn’t Be Priests.” I first want to say that I have a great deal of respect for Mr. Mattson. He writes from experience, he’s not afraid to share his experiences, and he makes compelling arguments. I respect him, I’m grateful for his powerful (and public) witness of trying to live chastely within the Catholic Church. Still, I disagree with him. Mr. Mattson admits that he knows several homosexual priests who are good and holy men, including one, “with a special charism for men dying of AIDS, which I am convinced comes from his love for others with deep-seated homosexual tendencies like him.”
Mr. Mattson goes on to say that chastity may be harder for men with deep-seated homosexual tendencies to live out. He may well be right. He mentions, courageously, how he has tried to live chastely and has fallen. His conclusion seems to be that, because of these difficulties (and because a number of priests accused of abuse have been homosexual), the Church would do well to heed certain directives to not ordain homosexual priests.
My problem with Mr. Mattson’s argument is that the reasoning is fundamentally anecdotal. He speaks of the difficulty of chastity, and says that men experiencing such difficulties probably shouldn’t be ordained. In this, he is correct. Again, to me, the judgment comes down to behavior. Regardless of somebody’s attractions/orientation, if the individual shows reasonably strong promise to be able to grow in celibacy and live a chaste, celibate life, then that individual deserves to be considered for ordination. Look at past behavior and the trends in the individual’s behavior. If those trends suggest that the individual could live this life, great! If not, then suggest that he take more time or look to a different vocation.
I also want to draw attention to the phrase that Mr. Mattson used: “a special charism.” He knows at least one example of a homosexual priest who has “a special charism,” that is, whose sexual orientation not only doesn’t detract from his ministry, but actually renders him a better minister. There may be individuals who have a particular tenderness, a particular charism for working with individuals who experience same-sex attraction, a particular egalitarian nature — and all of these things may even come from a disposition that is connected to one’s sexual orientation. In short, we should always remember that it is God who gives a vocation, and God may have reasons for calling certain men who experience same-sex attraction to the priesthood. Who are we to interfere with that?
Finally, there seem to be three propositions surrounding homosexuality that cannot all be true:
- God gives us, at all times, the grace to live holy lives.
- Individuals who experience deep-seated homosexual tendencies are called to celibate chastity.
- Individuals who experience deep-seated homosexual tendencies have particular difficulty in living out chaste celibacy, and so we should not admit them to vowed celibacy, where their failures could constitute deep scandal in the Church.
One of those three propositions must be false; I tend to think it is #3. If we the Church really believe that God gives to those with homosexual tendencies the grace necessary to live chastely, can we really turn around and say that we essentially don’t trust that grace to provide in candidates whose behavioral history suggests that they would make good candidates for the priesthood?
There is, however, a word of caution to those with such tendencies who are discerning a call to priesthood/religious life: make sure that you’re discerning celibacy because you sense that God is calling you there, and not simply as a way to make sense of the mandatory celibacy that homosexual tendencies entail (within the Catholic moral tradition). Religious celibacy is a vocation in its own right, and each individual who experiences these attractions must be careful to discern between the call to live chastely with homosexual tendencies and the call to religious celibacy lived for the Kingdom of God. Two different vocations, even though they can overlap.
On Religious Formation
Part of the reason why homosexual candidates for priesthood are coming to the forefront is also stories like this one. Clearly, there are some seminaries where priests and seminarians alike have problems with homosexual acts and with heavy drinking. Obviously, such environments need to be corrected … but I urge restraint on the thought that the root problem is homosexual attraction. Instead, here are some of the problems that I see:
- Do not admit individuals to seminary before they have graduated from college. I’m nearly 26. My understanding of my celibacy and sexuality has changed a lot in the years between 18-25. I entered postulancy at 22, and even the difference between 25 and 22 is significant. The implications of life-long celibacy come about slowly, and it takes time to come to know one’s self and be able to integrate one’s sexuality into chaste, celibate living. This can’t be done at 18 or 19 years old. When Mr. Monaco talks about young seminarians (also being introduced to alcohol around the same time) “cuddling” and “fondling,” part of me thinks that the environment is to blame. Were these guys really the same ones who were hitting gay bars, keeping pornography, and having sex with each other? Or were they 18-20 year old guys, deprived of contact with women, in an environment where talking about or opening up about sexuality is nearly impossible, and under the influence of alcohol? While I don’t condone the behavior, people need time to understand their sexuality and be able to make a commitment to celibacy. Starting seminary at 18-19 years old doesn’t allow that to happen.
- Make sure seminarians are taken outside of the “Catholic bubble.”
Once again, this is primarily an issue with individuals who enter the seminary at a very young age. The world can be a rough place, and alcohol abuse and sexual immorality abound. Yet, we find the Jesus always spending his time with the lowly and the sinners — drunkards, prostitutes, and tax collectors. There can be a tendency in seminary to be “polite” and “proper” and “refined.” But this doesn’t correspond to the reality of the real world, and younger guys (especially) can be shocked by what they see outside the walls and fences of the seminary. This leaves them ill-prepared to minister to these people, and vulnerable in their personal lives. Give people a real education in places where they will see serious sin and poverty. - Don’t tell people to run away from their desires/identity.
Early months (and maybe years) in celibacy are hard. Thoughts and feelings surface that I never would have expected. But bringing those desires to God and asking how they might lead me closer to Him has been one of the most enriching spiritual experiences of my life. Sometimes those desires may not always perfectly align with Church teaching. There can be a tendency to repress these in a religious house, and that doesn’t really work. What works much better is to face them head on, to not be afraid to admit to myself and to God what I feel, and to ask how that desire can by purified so that I grow in self-giving love. When I say that a desire is “bad” and try to run it out of my mind, I repress it; when I recognize that I ought not act on a certain desire, but ask God how that desire (again, even if sinful) can be purified and lead me towards him, I begin the real work of holiness.
This post is long, it’s a lot of stuff, and it’s anything but comprehensive. We’re hurting as a Church right now. We’re staring into the midst of our weakness and the very worst of our humanity. Let’s take a good long look. Then let’s ask for forgiveness and the grace to really love.
maristformation 