The Roman Disease - Prophets or Poppets?

How can it be that one man, a pope, can single-handedly colour the Church so ? How is it that the Church, in a single generation, can be made in the image of one man? The answer is clear. There is too much power held centrally in Rome. Wielding this power, a pope who’s around long enough can change the temperament of national and regional hierarchies by appointing bishops whose ideas conform to his own. These bishops in turn will seek out like-minded clerics for support and later recommend them for preferment in their turn.

What kind of men do we end up with, under this system? Do we find ourselves led by fearless prophets who will speak their truth even when it conflicts with their own interests? Occasionally we do, but these bishops don’t rise any further up the Roman greasy pole. Any bishop who speaks contrary to the prevailing Roman view, can say goodbye to any further promotion. Most of our bishops are safe, reliable products of a Rome-based educational system where strict adherence to curial orthodoxy is the only way to survive. We end up with papal poppets rather than Old Testament-style prophets.

I’m not saying that these are bad men. They are good men who have been corrupted by a system of patronage that rewards subservience and compliance, and encourages careerism. How many bishops worldwide have not been educated in Roman colleges? How many archbishops are there who have not spent time training or working in Rome? How many cardinals of voting age have not come through the Roman mill? The days when a monk like Basil Hume, with no Roman provenance, could be appointed an archbishop and given a red hat are long gone.

One of the demands of the 1,000 priests meeting in Dublin last week, was that bishops be elected. If bishops were chosen by the diocesan church, we would end up with a wider spectrum of views and backgrounds than we have at present. The Church as a whole would be richer for having leaders who didn’t conform to a single model of Church, whose understanding priesthood and ministry was multi-coloured rather than monochrome, and who were a reflection in some way of the people of their diocese rather than the curia or the pope.  

The notion that the local Church should appoint local bishops follows an ancient tradition. The cuckoo in the nest is the idea that the world’s bishops are chosen in Rome. Never, in the history of the Church, has so much power rested in the hands of a few men in Rome as it does today. If the people of the Church were once again allowed to choose their bishops, we’d find ourselves with many more prophets than we currently have. Rome, of course, prefers poppets.

Abuse of Power II

News came last week of another gagging of an Irish priest, this time Father Brian D'Arcy, a much loved and respected priest who has enjoyed a long career as a journalist. As well as a newspaper column, he has been a regular commentator on BBC and Irish radio. Father D'Arcy, 67, a member of the Passionist Order, has questioned mandatory celibacy for priests. He has also been a fierce critic of the church's handling of child abuse scandals in Ireland.

He received a censure from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) last year and has spoken about it for the first time this week. The censure obliges him to pass all his written articles and well as notes for radio broadcasts to a Vatican appointed censor before they can be published or aired.

He is just the most recent focus of the CDF's displeasure. Last year the emminent Marist moral theologian, Father Sean Fagan, was the subject of a CDF investigation and then silenced. To compound the sense of unease, Fr Sean and his order were served with a CDF super-injunction forbidding them even to admit that he was under censure; they were ordered to remain silent about the silencing. Fathers Tony Flannery and Gerard Moloney have also been ordered to stop writing. Such measures are bizarre and more consistent with the behaviour of a paranoid and ultra-secretive multinational gangster operation than with the, body of Christ.

There's a word that's much overused nowadays and blocks the questioning Catholic at every turn - MAGISTERIUM. The magisterium is the teaching authority of the Church and good governance can't exist without it but it has been distorted of late.  During the current and previous papacies, it has been used to silence any theologians who don't conform to the thinking of the Roman Curia. It doesn't allow for faithful servants of the Church to question, speculate and consider positions which challenge the status quo. Both John Paul II and Benedict XVI have forbidden discussion on issues such as artificial contraception, married priests and women being admitted to the priesthood. 

The teaching authority of the Church is exercised in different ways. The pronouncement of a pope supported by all the bishops is an exercise of the extraordinary magisterium and is considered infallible. The teaching of a pope or a bishop is considered the exercise of the ordinary magisterium and is authoritative but not infallible. In practice, nowadays, the ordinary is treated as if it were the extraordinary magisterium by Rome and conservative elements within the Church. As well as teaching, the other  purpose of the Magisterium is to act as a safety net which allows thinkers within the Church to fly high and take risks with their thinking without harming themselves or the Church by erroneous thought. It should encourage thinking rather than stifling it.

The notion of faithful questioning is unknown to the Vatican which views all differing opinion as disloyal dissent and rebellion. Brian D'Arcy and Sean Fagan are no rebesl. They are gentle men with a sharp minds and a generous spirits who would always give the benefit of any doubt. They and their Irish confreres join the ranks of respected and respectful men and women who have been deprived of the right to think out loud.

While PapaRatzi seems willing to bend over backwards to bring the traditionalist SSPX on board, he demonstrates little compunction in pushing liberal thinkers and Church members overboard.

 He drew a circle that shut me out.

Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.

But Love and I had the wit to win:

   We drew a circle that took him in.   

Edwin Markham