Answers and equations

When we begin to think about the current priest situation faced by Catholics in the United States and the Western world in general, it is necessary to consider the various sides of the problem and the implications afforded by the many solutions.

The statistics show that from 1970 to 2007 the number of diocesan priests fell from 36,005 to 27,971. Including religious priest the numbers fall from 59,000 in 1975 to about 41,500 last year.

Listed as causes for the drop are: trends of smaller family sizes; a sexualized culture where celibacy seems like an impossibility; negative views of the priestly ministry following the sexual abuse scandal; a culture that overvalues wealth; the audacity of a lifelong commitment to a single occupation. The one, however, most considered is celibacy.

Parts of the Church clearly call out for a married priesthood. Numerous theologians argue that a married priesthood is the stimulus needed to solve the "number problem". Rev. Donald Cozzens of John Carroll University said in an interview,

I think celibacy is a great gift, and it's wonderful for people who have the grace and the gift and the calling, but it can be a very difficult situation for men who feel called to the priesthood but not to celibacy. Over the past half dozen years, I've asked probably two dozen men if they've ever thought of being priests, and every one of them has said yes, they have thought of it, but then they add, "I really feel also called to the sacrament of marriage, I'd like to be a husband and a father."

Though a consensus concerning celibacy appears far off, the demographic issue will continue to affect the life of the Church. It surprises me, however, how many commentators tip-toe around the main question. Why? More specifically, what are the underlying foundations for arguments on both sides?

The approach which values both tradition and the status-quo states that a male-celibate priesthood is the proper order given to the Church. Relying on centuries of precedence the reasoning holds well. Even though the celibacy of the clergy is not dogma, and can change, there are theological knots to untie with a married priesthood.

If the priest's vocation is to be one person for many, and a married person's vocation is to be one person for his or her spouse, the lines cross quite clearly in a married priesthood. Can a man give himself totally to a spouse and at the same time give himself to a priestly ministry? If the love of a priest is to mirror the love of Jesus Christ in an analogous way, as one for many, is a married priesthood adding insult to injury when priests are currently overworked and suffering burnout?

The second approach which calls for change does so in clear response to a certain more contemporary phenomenon. The obvious drop in numbers presents a clear dilemma and has been mentioned already.

Without denigrating the gravity of this situation, a few things should be understood. First, priest shortages have happened previously; this is not the first, and this will not be the last. Although distinct historical circumstances should be considered distinctively, the Church should not be quick to throw out the baby with the bathwater due to a singular event.

Second, and perhaps more weighty, to what extent should an issue such as priestly celibacy be an answer to a simple numbers problem, a pragmatic answer? Should the Church immediately change because she is faced with a problem? Inundated with such ideas as natural selection, we hastily choose adaptation for survival over hope in order.

Arguing against pragmatism in Church politics can go either way. My hope for the Church is for Hope. The celibate priest may be a symbol of something quite foreign now in the days following a sexual abuse scandal and in the midst of a highly sexualized culture, but the impetus for change cannot be merely a survival ploy or a number crunch. If we change our understanding of the priesthood it must be for the good of a Church that is everywhere, that is past, present and future.

To be free

As Christians and People of God, one of the goals of spirituality is freedom. We seek to be free from poverty, free from oppression, freedom from the forces in society that turn us away from God and the good found in others. We seek freedom from our carnality and pure emotionality that is irreverent of the providential goodness of God. Paul writes, we seek to be free from the slavery of sin and fear of death (Rom 7:14; Heb 2:15).

Freedom is by all means an important thematic element in the spiritual journey, but are their currents within Christianity and culture that view freedom as absolute, freedom idolized perhaps?

Sadly, yes. Most clearly in culture, freedom has become synonymous with whimsy and caprice. The free person is the self creating person, the person who seemingly floats free of influence and heeds the call of no one. The free man can say what he wants, without considering the reception of others. The free man can become what he wants, without care of who is taken advantage of. The free man is a sort of existential ideal, living in a situation Heidegger calls "fallenness," a hermeneutic employed by Heidegger and espoused by Jean-Paul Sartre which calls each person to realize his responsibility and freedom following the awareness of the "death of God".

Because of the failed Enlightenment project we know that man, in fact, has a deal of limitations. Thus in accord with these limitations man cannot become his own creator. For instance. human rationality has a limit, and in the face of this limit, the conception of man seems intuitively inadequate. Or considering the various instincts and emotive influences that man is forced to deal with on a daily basis, it is clear that the supposed death of God does not necessitate the responsibility of the self-creating project.

All of these points revolve around the question of the proper use of freedom. Further, the value and proper use of freedom is either an end in itself or freedom is a subordinate end or means to a greater end.

The first possibility endows man with an absolute freedom and equally absolute responsibility that man cannot adequately fulfill and be held responsible for. The previously mentioned self-project cannot be the sole responsibility of the person, if only for the reason that the person did not initiate it. Man is gifted with the prospect of personhood and is so condemned (according to Sartre) to the responsibilities to that personhood.

Rather, freedom to participate in the self-project which was initiated by Someone else must point to a freedom beyond mere whim or caprice, beyond the care of a single person. Freedom is, in a sense, the self-project as participation rather than condemnation. Freedom is a participatory experience. As Karol Wojtyla writes,

Love consists of a commitment which limits one's freedom -- it is a giving of the self, and to give oneself means just that: to limit one's freedom on behalf of the other. Limitation of one's freedom might seem to be something negative and unpleasant, but love makes it a positive, joyful and creative thing. Freedom exists for the sake of love. If freedom is not, is not taken advantage by love it becomes a negative thing and gives human beings a feeling of emptiness and unfulfilment. Love commits freedom and imbues it with that to which the will is naturally attracted -- goodness. (Love and Responsibility, 135)

Freedom ends in love. Perhaps the loving acknowledgment that we are not our own gods; that though we are utterly responsible for our actions, we are not alone in them.

With Christ

For this post, I compiled a list of verses that center on the theme of living with Christ. The importance of this particular theme, most clearly expounded in the epistles, is especially important when considering a distinctly Christian approach to life.

Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. (Rom. 6:4)

But if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. (Rom. 6:8)

...and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ—if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him. (Rom. 8:17)

...because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus, and will bring us with you into his presence. (2Cor. 4:14)

For he was crucified in weakness, but lives by the power of God. For we are weak in him, but in dealing with you we will live with him by the power of God. (2Cor. 13:4)

...and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, (Eph. 2:6)

...when you were buried with him in baptism, you were also raised with him through faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead. 13 And when you were dead in trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made you alive together with him, when he forgave us all our trespasses, (Col. 2:12)

So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. (Col. 3:1)

...for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. 4 When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory. (Col. 3:3)

The saying is sure:
If we have died with him, we will also live with him; (2Tim. 2:11)

Consecration in the East

An interesting article on the website of America the magazine stirred up a few thoughts on those churches of Eastern rites.

Before I began the article, I thought of the strife which is quite commonplace in the geographies of these churches. Iraqi Archibishop Paulos Faraj Rahho was murdered this year in the middle of March. Between restoring a country after the Communist Era and the warfare that stretches through the West Bank and into the Middle East, the faith communities in those areas experience life through a different lens than I.

The article itself addressed the question of a "Mass without consecration", which a prima facie is a utter contradiction. The issue, instead, is the situation shared by Chaldean and Assyrian Christians whose abilities to find ministers of their own rite are severely limited due to military situations or diaspora.

In October of 2001, the Vatican approved members of the Assyrian Church of the East to celebrate Eucharist with Chaldean Catholics. In short, the issue with this is that the Assyrian's Eucharistic Prayer, the Anaphora of Addai and Mari, does not include an Institution Narrative.

The committee approving this practice writes, "the words of Eucharistic Institution are indeed present in the Anaphora of Addai and Mari, not in a coherent narrative way and ad litteram, but rather in a dispersed euchological way, that is, integrated in successive prayers of thanksgiving, praise and intercession." The writers, however, also note that according to the Council of Florence, "The form of this sacrament are the words of the Saviour with which he effected this sacrament. A priest speaking in the person of Christ effects this sacrament. For, in virtue of those words, the substance of bread is changed into the body of Christ and the substance of wine into his blood.”

Further it is important to note that in the Eastern liturgy there is no single point of consecration; instead, the whole prayer is the point of consecration. Some scholars attribute this sort of mysticality as an effect of the absence of scholasticism.

The text offers three reasons to permit the Anaphora without the Narrative. First, the Anaphora of Addai and Mari is one of the oldest anaphoras, and "it was composed and used with the clear intention of celebrating the Eucharist in full continuity with the Last Supper, in obedience to the command of the Lord, and according to the intention of the Church."

Secondly though the Assyrian Church of the East is not in full communion with Rome, the Assyrian Church is recognized as a particular Church with apostolic succession and orthodox faith.

Finally, as stated earlier the Anaphora seems to circle around the action of Christ's Institution without clearly stating the words.

As the Catholic Church continues to open itself to the world (though carefully) and minsters to the situations of the world, Christians should continue to serve one another while serving beyond the seeming limits of the Church. I believe that actions such as these will help the Church realize its place and mission in the world.

Vocation

"Vocations are born in silence"

"Your vocation should be understood as a conversation with God rather than a guessing game, in which you have to try to read God's mind. The latter picture of God is not too positive."

"Vocation is the spine of existence"

Realizing a vocation is a process in which a person accepts that God is part of his personal creation, his personal situation, and his personal future. This, however, is not always an easy process, perhaps not ever an easy process.

The challenge of vocation, when accepted and begun, opens each person to himself while at the same time opening each person to the world. The beginning of this challenge is also a form of opening. In accepting the reality of vocation, each person must open themselves to God, and once opened to God each person realizes a few things.

1. God is interested in me, and he cares for me and my future.
2. God has created me with gifts, and these gifts should be used for a certain end.
3. The world has certain needs, some of which could act as ends for my gifts.
4. God's care for me will help me realize my place in the world.

Thus, realizing a certain vocation is a process of searching for gifts in yourself, searching for needs in the world and listening to where you fit in those needs. Realizing a vocation is not simply a task of triage, wherein you choose to offer yourself to the highest need that you see. Rather relying on the vision of God, a vocation is attentively listening to where God opens a space in the world for you.

A Little of the World

Photography, as a hobby, can become an interesting passageway to past memories and hopefully something more than a mere record of history. As photographed events are surely true (in that they happened), in my humble opinion they should also express beauty. To say beauty is not to say, that kind of beauty "that lies in the eye of the beholder", but beauty that pulls a person, sometimes violently, out of themselves and into something beyond themselves.

Some of the images below have that effect on me, and though I have the benefit of additional memory with these scenes, I think that they say something more than what was experienced at one time by one person.

An interesting moment in Agua Caliente, El Salvador

A door in Manhattan

Brooklyn Bridge, 2007

Statue of Saint Francis in an open walkway of Santa Maria degli Angeli, in which doves have nested from "times immemorial"

Cassock of Archbishop Oscar Romero, University of Central America San Salvador

Beginning a Journey

To inaugurate the beginning of this blog, I made time to read the Chronicles of Narnia. This was the first time I have read the books, and I hope to read the whole series this week. This blog, then, will consider an image within The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe, namely the statued lion that was given a penciled mustache by Edmund in the Witch's castle and was revived by the breath of Aslan.

Lewis writes of the restored lion,

"The most pleased of the lot was the other lion who kept running about everywhere pretending to be very busy but really in order to say to everyone he met, "Did you hear what he said? Us Lions. That means him and me. Us Lions. That's what I like about Aslan. No side, no stand-off-ishness. Us Lions. That meant him and me."

This image sets a few things quite straight: our restoration comes from without us, not within. Whether we are statues or just on the wrong side of the battle, we would never be able to "fix" our situation without a deal of outside help. Secondly, the restoring breath neither comes from some distant reality with which we cannot relate nor comes from a normal lion like ourselves. Rather the breath comes from an empathetic friend whose power reaches far beyond ours. Finally, once we are restored his action is not finished. The lion was called by Aslan to carry "three dwarfs, one dryan, two rabbits and a hedgehog" to the battle.

The wonder of being part of an Us, which totally renovates, restores and finally elevates us to something beyond our own imaginations is the beginnings of a participatory understanding of Christianity. It is this participation that is the basis for a theology and spirituality which asks us to change the world and be changed in the process