AI and Usage in Religion

It is no secret that AI has the potential to make us dumber. A recent study has indicated that less of our brain is engaged when we use AI to do our work.1 As with any body part, when the brain is not exercised, it becomes flabby. Frankly, I am also exhausted from reading long pages of nothing. Just a limitless amount of text with endless adjectives. I see it in press, releases, statements, prayers, etc. 

It is important for me to clarify that I do believe in using AI. I think it can be a helpful tool and I use it. For example, I often default to using passive voice. AI helps me refine my words sometimes so that I don’t. And, in the beginning of AI, I used it much more frequently until I realized its affect on my abilities. It also can be very helpful in creating images. Although we use the endless stream of AI created images to our peril, it is useful because of the lack of copyright. Many images are not available to us without payment these days. Also, for some simple tasks, like citations, it is very helpful and saves time. 

However, we have to guard against its overuse. We have to protect the beauty of what makes us human. The human mind, a God-given gift, is what separates us from all other beings. Art, beauty, and human touch will ultimately save us. However, it cannot save us if we don’t engage it. Even if we use AI for our base or to help us, we can at least edit the output to include our own human voice. 

I love grammar. But I’m getting to the point, where I find mistakes to be refreshing. Simple mistakes! This is something that I never thought I would say. However, at least I know that it was written by a human. It was the product of a human brain and of real emotions. Frankly, I never could’ve fathomed when I was going through graduate school that this would be an option. I’m slightly jealous because of the ease of doing citations with AI as I mentioned previously. 

However, I do worry where it will take us. Are we doomed to pages of gobbledygook? Will we all become like zombies dependent on asking a computer? What decisions we should make or what we should write? I certainly hope not. But I don’t hold out strong hope. I think we have to take this into consideration as we train new generations of clergy--to encourage them to use critical thinking, to ask questions about the programming and agendas, and to use things as tools rather than the only way. 

Hopefully we can use these tools created by humans for good. If we don’t, we do so at our own risk. 

Prada, L. (February 11, 2025). AI Is Making Us Dumber. Shocker. Vice: https://www.vice.com/en/article/ai-is-making-us-dumber-shocker/ 

Old Catholic Identity

In the Autocephalous Catholic movement, there are a number of different groups. As I know you are aware, dear long-time readers, I have an obsession with purity of identity. I believe strongly that you should be what you say, and you should know what you are. One of the greatest problems of the Old Catholic tradition (or really any of the Autocephalous Catholic traditions) is that there are a number of individuals who enter not because they believe in it, but because it is a place for them to exercise orders. The problem with this is that these individuals are not truly wedded to their identity as Old Catholics. Therefore, there is no real interest in learning the theological necessities. 

I freely chose this tradition. This may sound like a mad thing to say, given the present situation, but I theologically adhere to the principles of the original Church of Utrecht. Whatever they think about us, their wayward children, is irrelevant because they have not made universal jurisdiction and the supremacy of the Archbishop of Utrecht to be a central tenet of the faith. It was not such before Mathew left the Union of Utrecht and it still is not.

In very rudimentary summary, the Ultrajectine tradition includes the preeminence of the local church united around the local bishop as well as the primacy of theological conscience. The Ultrajectines were accused of using this to adhere to Jansenism (which meant a lot of different things to a lot of people) and later it meant rejecting the dogmatic (that which must be believed for salvation) pronouncements of things like the Immaculate Conception, Papal Infallibility, and the Assumption of Mary. 

There are still others who will use the moniker of Old Catholic when they are, in fact, dissenting from the Roman Catholic Church. These individuals' canonical status is specific to them. Canon 754 is very clear that "All the Christian faithful are obliged to observe the constitutions and decrees which the legitimate authority of the Church issues in order to propose doctrine and to proscribe erroneous opinions, particularly those which the Roman Pontiff or the college of bishops puts forth." 

 

There are many people on this spectrum, both right and left. Some have chosen to separate from the Roman Pontiff due to a desire to seek ordination outside of a local Roman Catholic bishop due to gender, marital status, orientation, liturgical preference, etc. Regardless, they are formally separate from communion with the Roman Pontiff and are, therefore, in an impaired communion. There is no such thing as Roman Catholic except for jurisdiction because of Vatican I. In this, they are guided by their own conscience.

 

For Ultrajectines, this is not a problem because we do not subscribe to a Ultramontanist view of papal authority and church structure and left before this innovation. But, there is a vital imperative that those who claim this name and this tradition understand what it is about and why we exist. This is not a consolation prize. This is not a "we're like them but..." For me, I want to invest in something with my very valuable time and resources that I absolutely believe in and hold. Unfortunately, it is a bit of building from the ground up. And we have to work harder to catechize people who come to us and explain the difference. But, I think it is worth it to let them know that we really hold our faith dear.

 

It also does not necessarily mean large numbers. The remaining Old Catholic Churches in Western Europe are infinitesimally small compared to other traditions. But, we have as our inspiration one who left the many to chase the few. 

“Do not wish to be anything but what you are, and try to be that perfectly.” - St Francis de Sales

A Pope of Our Own

Much buzz has been created about the Conclave in Rome and the election of a new pope. As Autocephalous Catholics, we do not look to the Pope as our leader. This is true for anyone not in communion with the local Roman Catholic bishop, despite any perceptions to the contrary. In fact, the position of the papacy is one of the major issues which facilitated the break in our relationship. As Bishop of Rome, we honor the pope as the first among equals and the successor of Saint Peter. However, this is where the adulation ends. To consider him as infallible on matters of faith and morals and holding universal jurisdiction is, well, a step too far.

It would be folly, however, to not acknowledge that the papacy has an impact on us all. As the saying goes, adapted from a statement by Klemens von Metternich, "When Rome sneezes, the rest of Christendom catches cold." When Rome radically changed the Roman Rite in 1969, much of the rest of Christendom followed suit. Similarly, so many of our customs and traditions come from Rome that it has a big impact on the rest of us.

Despite the honor given to the Bishop of Rome and an acknowledgement of the papacy's impact on the rest of us, I will confess that we otherwise go largely unimpacted. We will pray for him and we will have our opinions about what changes we would like to see that might affect us. This is natural, like acknowledging that an election in a neighboring country will inevitably impact ours. However, because we are not Roman Catholics, we are largely not affected by what happens. Any investment on our part in hoping for a certain outcome or wanting the pope to change this or that is largely misspent. 

In the meantime, we will continue our work of providing pastoral care, sharing the sacraments, and building the Kingdom of God. I will certainly pray for the man chosen, that he lead his flock with wisdom and prudence. A job made all the more difficult by infallibility which, to the ill informed, seems to extend to everything. As for me, I will focus on my very little patch in the Kingdom of God.

"To go to Rome is little profit, endless pain; the master that you seek in Rome you find at home or seek in vain." - Sedulius of Liège

Independent Catholic Narratives

A friend and I were recently talking about belonging to a tradition that is adjacent to a larger tradition. This is incredibly difficult. I have written on this topic many times, but I want to again reinforce it. Our adjacency to Roman Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy, Oriental Orthodoxy, etc., makes it difficult to describe ourselves. The reality is that it is easy to default to "we're like x except..." 

A better example of this is illustrated in a talk given by a dear friend. In this talk to an ISM or Autocephalous Catholic jurisdiction, my friend said:

"Like me, you probably are invited to explain yourself when people find out that you belong to a church like this, or worse yet, are some sort of priest! Random inquirers probably misunderstand larger denominations with great regularity, but most of the time, they at least have some idea of what a Methodist or Roman Catholic might be – even if it is a completely wrong idea. But when they meet us, we often blow their categories and they aren’t quite sure who we are or how to understand us..... And most of us reach automatically for stored narratives we have in our pocket, which may have been useful along the way, but may be less so in this moment. The first automatic narrative might be called the inclusivity story, or the “just like… except…” tale... Well, we are just like the Roman Catholic Church, or the Orthodox Church, or whoever, except we ordain women, or gay people, or trans people, or do same-sex weddings.” Or whatever the specifics may be. We hereby set up a game where our vocation as church is only ever seen or understood in comparison or contrast to one of the large denominations. We fail to answer the question or who we are or who we are called to be, without pointing to another church...."

We may feel like it's a "necessary evil" to define ourselves in relation to someone else. As humans, we like to categorize people. If we can place people in a bubble "gay/straight, Democrat/Republican, black/white, etc." we know if they are "on our side." But, I think a better path is to share what we believe to allow the inquirer to discern if they believe it, too. We also can share our rich history to explain who we are and how we got here.

Unfortunately, we belong to a tradition which defies explanation. Most Christians have associated the word Catholic exclusively with the Roman Catholic Church, despite its universal meaning. Despite, as well, its use among other traditions which offer a prefix like Anglo-Catholic, Old Catholic, Evangelical Catholic, or even Eastern Orthodoxy which often uses a derivative of the name Orthodox Catholic Church. 

I think the farther we can distance ourselves from mainstream churches in our descriptions, the better it will be. We may be buoyed by the names "Catholic" or "Orthodox" to describe our theological and (especially) sacramental commitments, but we do not have to use them as oppositional words. It is more important for us to build up strong, vibrant communities of faith. Doing this is only more difficult when we base our identity on our opposition to another Christian community. It is also complicated when we seek to change another Christian community, despite our having left it.

I have no interest or desire in changing another tradition, any more than I do by defining myself in relation to it.  As I have written multiple times, I wish there were different names to describe ourselves. But we are wedded either by historicity or our firm theological commitments. And these are what should guide us in describing ourselves, not our place in the Christian continuum. I will stand by using Catholic because that's what I am. Not because it's in relation to a larger version of Catholicism but because I am part of the universal tradition--the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic one.

"What a heavy burden is a name that has become too famous." - Voltaire 

Ordination without Sacrifice

Gandhi gave us his take on the Seven Deadly Sins, and one of them is "religion without sacrifice." I think of this a lot when it comes to ordination. The reality is that within Independent Catholicism (and its many iterations thereof), it is easy to be ordained. This reality spans from the liberal to the traditional--if you find a willing bishop, you, too, can be a priest. I do not think that this is inherently bad. There are many people who have been innately called to priesthood who should be ordained. For one reason or another, they are not able to pursue it in their church of origin. 

I do not always think that a theological degree is required for ordination. While helpful in explaining theological concepts to those to whom we minister, I also realize that they are out of the reach of many people. Because of the exorbitant cost of education in the US (especially), it does not make good financial sense to go tens of thousands of dollars into debt for ministry that will never be able to reimburse you for your costs. However, thankfully, because of the internet, there are many opportunities for learning that are less formal but still provide insightful, challenging insights.

So, without formal training, what is the option for training clergy? Well, there are other ways to prepare. A lot of it depends on the candidate. The individual has to take every opportunity to prepare themselves for ordination. At a minimum, ordinands should work on their spiritual life, emotional health, professionalism, grammar, and demeanor. Without this, ordinands are doing themselves a disservice because 1) they are seeking the easy path without doing the work and 2) they limit their own success in ministry and their ability to minister to people.

Some of the fault is on the ordaining bishops, who do not challenge applicants to do this hard work. Sometimes, they are eager to ordain people to grow their church or, less cynically, there is a true ministry need. However, by ordaining too quickly you actually do the ordinand a disservice on your side, too. It is incumbent that each person called to public ministry be spiritually prepared, emotionally prepared, and intellectually challenged. To fail to do so can cause a host of additional problems. 

Technology has made our lives infinitely easier. If you wish to be ordained, take it upon yourself to learn and digest. Take courses to improve your grammar. Watch videos about professional conduct and take trainings about child protection. We have access to some of the most brilliant human minds at the click of a button. Document what you have done and show it to your bishop. Together, you can craft a meaningful, yet challenging plan forward that does not put you thousands of dollars into debt while still helping you grow as a person. What a time to be alive!

O Priest! You are not yourself because you are God. You are not of yourself because you are the servant and minister of Christ. You are not you own because you are the spouse of the Church. You are not yourself because you are the mediator between God and man. You are not from yourself because you are nothing. What then are you? Nothing and everything. O Priest! Take care lest what was said to Christ on the cross be said to you: "He saved others, himself he cannot save! - St. Norbert

Stability among Independent Catholics

I was speaking to a friend about the lack of stability in the Independent Catholic world, and it inspired a writing. As you may know, the Benedictines take a specific vow of stability. Thomas Merton writes: "By making a vow of stability the monk renounces the vain hope of wandering off to find a ‘perfect monastery.’ This implies a deep act of faith: the recognition that it does not matter where we are or whom we live with. …Stability becomes difficult for a man whose monastic ideal contains some note, some element of the extraordinary. All monasteries are more or less ordinary.… Its ordinariness is one of its greatest blessings."

I think this is all the more difficult in the Autocephalous Catholic world. Because of our independence, the sky is the limit on what we want and where we want to go in our spiritual life. We have seen that manifest itself chaotically--clergy who have cycled through religions as frequently as we change socks. We also see micro levels of this--clergy who change within the Christian tradition from Anglican to Roman Catholic-ish, to Orthodox, and everything in between. Or, clergy who start and stop and start again parishes while creating whiplash among attendees. Or, perhaps they change jurisdictions frequently--hopping from here to there in contravention of the vow of stability mentioned above.

In typing these, I realize that I am not immune to the call to change. I have frequently waffled in understanding if my beliefs are Old Catholic or Western Orthodox. I struggle between these two poles because my deep commitment to the Western liturgical tradition while being called to the theology and mystical understanding of Orthodoxy. I have found, in myself, a way to nurture both, albeit sometimes confusingly. Fortunately, the founder of my tradition lived in this same confusing place, so I am in good company.

As I have written before frequently and emphatically, there is no good name for us in this little world. We seem to swing between being accused of schism, imitation, and innovation. So, we live in a gray area. However, despite this we are called to "keep at it" as much as we can. This also has implications in our own worshiping communities. Not planning ahead can lead to starting and stopping liturgical plans and programs, which in turn creates confusion among those to whom we minister.

Another caveat is that I am not stating that it is ok to stay in a situation where, in good conscience, we cannot stay due to feeling abused or conflicted. Unfortunately, there are plenty of stories of bad jurisdictional experiences in our tradition (although the same can be said for mainstream churches). However, constantly hopping around or rapid changes do not benefit us and the people we serve. Consider the person who digs a well only superficially and gives up. If they but only dug a bit deeper, they would have found their treasure: water.

I have a very dear friend who has labored at his parish for many years. Unfortunately, the response has been low but he persists nonetheless because he knows the importance of what he does. I admire him so much because I have been in the same place, laboring consistently and working for growth. His little group continues to meet despite, what I might imagine, is some disappointment and frustration but also hope. Yet, people know he is there and visitors come. He is consistent and present. May we all be so, too.

“Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you.” - Saint Augustine

Mind Your Business People of God

A few weeks ago, I walked through a cemetery and one of the monks buried there had a sign that read "Almost everything is none of my business." I laughed and forgot about it until this week. For some reason, I thought about this sign again. The simplicity of the sign is profound, and I think is a message to us all. This is something I struggle with, because I try to know a lot about a lot. Being well versed in a variety of areas is important to me, so this sign gave me greater reflection and pause.

Religious people, especially clergy, can be especially pedantic. If people don't do things exactly the way we want or in the same way we would, we criticize them. Similarly, if someone believes differently from us, even slightly, we find it easy to condemn or vilify them. This is not unique to any side or perspective. You can do any number of things wrong: liturgy, being too or not enough justice oriented, believing too much or too little in something, wearing something wrong, etc. etc. etc. Instead of asking "well, why do you do that?" to try to understand, many times we just shut down or condemn.

On a forum recently, an individual posted about another denomination "their communion isn't real anyway." I think it is easy to write other people off. To say, "well, they're not like me, so I can say what I want." Or, "I have nothing to learn from them." Or even "they're not real and only I am." The reality is that none of this is new. We have been saying things about each other since the dawn of time. And, frankly, in my ministry experiences it has turned people off. Most normal lay people do not care about the complexities of this or that, they simply want to improve their lives through a reverent and involved faith. To some, this may be a sign of how far we've fallen. However, I think the farther we can get away from burning each other at the stake the better, and maybe this is a step in the right direction.

It seems like a good resolution to take into the New Year to say "almost everything is none of my business." See something you don't like? Don't comment on it. Let it go or ignore it. I think that we all have something to learn from each other--a different way to pray, to learn, to grow. If you shut that down, you have no chance to expand yourself. We all like to think we're the best or we're right or our way is the only way. We can choose, instead, to see the best in people. Now, I'm not talking about when people are being intentionally malicious and cruel. We don't have to put up with that. But for many things, we can disagree but still live in harmony. Or even work towards agreement! We just have to let it go and mind your business people of God.

"If you judge people, you have no time to love them." - St. Theresa of Calcutta

Clerical Relationships: Being a Blank Canvas

From 2008-2013, there was a TV show called Tabatha Takes Over. Tabatha, a well-known hair stylist, would take over failing salons to make them profitable again. On one of the shows, Tabatha made a quip about why hairdressers should wear black aprons which stuck with me. She said "all black means that you are a blank canvas for the client." They can then share all their cares with the hair dresser.

The priest wears all black for a similar reason. The conventional wisdom is that clerical black symbolizes "dying to oneself to serve the Lord." Part of dying to oneself is diminishing your identity. I think this is an important part of ordination that sometimes gets pushed to the side. 

After ordination, a priest is no longer themself. They belong fully to God and to their people. While it is important for a priest to know themself and have a healthy understanding of self (because we have seen when that has become twisted and broken), it also becomes imperative to carefully chose where this sense of self is shared. This does not mean that a cleric should be inauthentic or fake, but it does mean that they should be genuine but cautious.

It can present problems if a cleric shares too much of their angst, woes, frustrations, and opinions with the people they serve. In today's world, this includes social media. Frankly, most people do not really want to frequently know when their pastor is experiencing emotional woes. I am not talking here about health issues--people should get updates about their clergy and their well-being. I mean, here, relationship issues, emotional ones, mental health challenges, etc. It is imperative for clergy to form relationships with other clergy to share these concerns. Or, to people outside their congregation. These are ideal groups with whom to share your concerns, angst, and issues. Or, perhaps a spiritual director or a therapist (which are mentioned here as options but are very distinct roles from each other). The priest is a professional and sharing too much, much like if done by your physician or lawyer, can be churlish. 

Proverbs reminds us "He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls." This is doubly true of clergy. Healthy boundaries are the bedrock of good relationships. This means protecting the people we serve from our own challenges, but it also protects us from becoming too enmeshed and in situations which present moral and ethical challenges.

"Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life” (Proverbs 4:23)

Image by <a href="https://www.freepik.com/free-photo/priest-praying-church_23992226.htm#query=priest&position=28&from_view=search&track=sph">Freepik</a>

The Beauty of Perspective: Thoughts on So-Called Independent Catholicism

I am fully aware that I am re-visiting a topic that I write about often... However, I do find a lot of beauty in Independent (Autocephalous) Catholicism. To start, I have never been a Roman Catholic. I entered this world in my teens through Baptism and, frankly, it is all I have ever known religiously. So, I do not have the often dour perspective on the movement of former Roman Catholics.

Because of this, I think it is important to forge our own identity. You will not find me concerned about issues in Roman Catholicism because I am not subject to their laws and regulations. Or, my tradition has not been since 1701. I am thrilled to work with our Roman Catholic siblings and to partner in building a better world. I am happy to minister to Roman Catholics who understand that I am not one of them. I also take an active ecumenical interest in what is happening in the Roman Catholic Church. However, my perspective is separate because I am not a Roman Catholic any more than I am an Episcopalian or a Baptist. Frankly, I cannot condemn their workings because I, too, live in a glass house with the chaos in my own tradition. 

 

Despite this, I also acknowledge as a descendant of the Ultrajectine tradition that I am forever linked with the See of Rome. Arnold Harris Mathew, in his Catechism of Christian Doctrine, stated "The Church has a visible Head or Chief Bishop on Earth--the Bishop of Rome." However, this was qualified with "... who is the Vicar of Christ as the first of the Five Patriarchs." It is clear that Mathew was a proponent of a modified Branch Theory of the Church. I also realize (to paraphrase the words of Prince Metternich) "when Rome sneezes, the whole of Christendom catches a cold." 

 

While I identify with a very specific branch of the so-called Independent Catholic movement, I think overall this tradition needs to be nurtured and new and innovative spiritual and theological insights need to drive our thinking. My own perspective is that I represent a version of Catholicism that is both dogmatically ancient while adapting to the pastoral needs of modern people. It maintains the sacramental viewpoints and beliefs of the universal (Catholic) church while being a distinct stream (branch) of it. 

Each movement brings something special to this tradition. ICAB and its descendants bring St. Carlos' commitment to justice and equality. The IFI brings the perspective of a national church borne of a subjugated native people. The PNCC contributes the history of a grassroots church close to the traditions of its immigrant people. Utrecht's descendants bring the perspective of apostolic dogma. While one may or may not agree with each aspect of each strand, together they bring a richness to the tapestry that is this tradition. Much more than clinging onto a Church that, frankly, we are no longer canonically a part of or in. 

My tradition is not a reaction to Vatican II, because we separate long before it happened, with our own traditions, liturgy, and dogmatic principles. I hope that we can all claim our unique identities and take pride in a movement built on ancient creeds, the sacraments, and a rich and varied history.

RIP: Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI

Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI has a complicated legacy for me. I remember vividly being in the political science building in college spending time with friends when the white smoke appeared. As they came out to announce “Josephum Sanctae Romanae Ecclesiae Cardinalem Ratzinger” one of the other students yelled “the Hitler Youth?!” I knew then that it was going to be a rocky experience.

I admire the former Pope in many ways. He was a brilliant intellectual who was also a very gifted writer. He used his gifts to write about church history, theology, and other topics to help people better understand their faith. His “Introduction to Christianity” helped present the faith to the modern word in a new way.

I also agreed with his approach to liturgy, and I was personally enriched by “The Spirit of the Liturgy.” I am of the opinion that the liturgical changes after the Second Vatican Council were too radical, while also acknowledging that a dramatic change was needed to make the liturgy more approachable to a modern world. Benedict XVI attempted to find a middle ground—to promote the sacred in the Novus Ordo while nurturing the Tridentine Mass. One can certainly appreciate the “Reform of the Reform” while also being grateful for more access to the Tridentine Mass. Unfortunately, as the old joke goes, “it is easier to argue with a terrorist than a liturgist” and problems continued with liturgical exclusivity and obedience.

However, his legacy was not without challenges. While he certainly went farther than John Paul II in handling abuse cases, there were places where that fell short. There was also the financial scandal that ultimately overshadowed the end of his papacy. He could be a polarizing figure—beloved by traditionalists and distrusted by progressives, although (as we see with Pope Francis) that is the fate (albeit switched) of every Pope to some degree.

I did not expect him to make sweeping changes, just as I did not expect this of Pope Francis. While infallible, the Popes have very little ability to radically change dogma in Catholicism. Sure, it can be said that infallibility was a great change but, to be frank, most people don’t particularly care about it. They ignore it to a large degree since it is used so infrequently. Popes can, like Francis, make statements here and there that encourage people or make them think change will be coming, but it rarely results. So the rank and file Catholics trudge on—even those that often feel excluded (the LGBT, divorced and remarried, those taking birth control, etc.)—receiving pastoral care from their local clergy (either outright support or a wink and a nod) while the Church at large remains unchanged. They stay because that is enough or they have found community, a desire of all of us.

For others, like many Independent Catholics, this informal support is not enough “for life is short and nothing is given to man” as Joan Baez says. Or they are fed up with multiple scandals and missteps. Or they have a profound theological disagreement. So, we look to Rome and the Papacy as a guide but forge out on our own, sometimes in the dark and the cold, but true to ourselves and our convictions despite the challenges. It can be a lonely, frustrating path, but nothing worth it really is easy we remind ourselves.

In some way, I respect Benedict XVI for doing the same, albeit the opposite. He stuck to his convictions, leading the Church as he felt called, trying to increase it in holiness and adherence to dogma. He saw rapid change at the Council and, I’m sure, it scared him. I believe he acted according to his conscience. I wish it did not come at the expense of gay seminarians and others who sincerely sought out a way to serve in the Church or were called to active membership but denied even though celibate.

In the end, every one of us has a complicated legacy. Perhaps it is more apparent for those who lead, because they are perceived as changing too much or not enough. Benedict XVI was no different. I believe he was a man of prayer, and I will pray for him. Because even when we disagree with someone, we pray for them. And I hope that he will pray for me.

Photo: M.Mazur/www.thepapalvisit.org.uk

Ode to Thomas Cahill

I opened Wikipedia this morning and let out an audible gasp when I saw that Thomas Cahill was among the obituaries featured. Cahill was a brilliant writer, with knowledge of Latin, ancient Greek, French, German, and Italian. He initially studied to become a priest with the Jesuits, but ultimately married his wife Susan and oversaw the religious publications at Doubleday. 

With his degrees in classical literature and medieval philosophy, philosophy, and fine arts, he became a professor at Queen's College and Seton Hall. His interest in these areas led to his first big publishing break, "How the Irish Saved Civilization" which began his Hinges of History series.

For me, however, it was his book "Desire of the Everlasting Hills: The World Before and After Jesus" that had a profound affect on my religious upbringing. I read the book as a high school student who was interested in pursuing the priesthood, and it radically changed my thought process on the life of Jesus and his message. In it, Cahill challenges us to reflect on the cosmic and human natures of Christ in addition to the divine. By emphasizing the balance of Our Lord's natures, he creates both a compelling and thought-provoking narrative. For me, it was truly formative in helping me to wrestle with challenges and perceptions that I held up to that point.

Mr. Cahill was a scholar of the first degree, mastering the languages he used before publishing his scholarly works about them. I highly recommend reading his works and will certainly pray for his repose. Rest in Peace, Thomas.

The Beauty of Grief

Today, I watched the funeral of Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. It was a beautiful service befitting a grand lady. Although Anglicanism has always been foreign to me, they do liturgy and music exquisitely. I believe a lot of the English-speaking world could learn from the nobility of the Anglican tradition. Especially with wording like this, from the Eucharistic Prayer for Children: "He came to take away sin, which keeps us from being friends, and hate, which makes us all unhappy." Oh dear.

Anyway, what struck me as important about the funeral is the ability to grieve. The family grieved their matriarch and a nation mourned their sovereign. This was enabled by an atmosphere of grief and solemnity. I believe that this is something that we need to bring back into modern funeral liturgies. It was a grave error, in my estimation, to change the funeral liturgy in the Roman Rite. Grief is no longer the focus with the resurrection being the primary focus of the liturgy. White is now an option and the event can take a celebratory tone.

For me, it is important that there is a chance to grieve. Purple and black remind us that our time on earth is brief and that we need the opportunity to mourn. The prayers in the Extraordinary Form were for the soul of the person, entreating God's mercy and asking forgiveness for the person. We now pray that the person will be immediately admitted into the company of the saints. I read that Cardinal George of Chicago was wary of funeral liturgies that "canonized the deceased." That is something we should also avoid if possible. 

This is, perhaps, to be expected. In modern times we have often changed our definition of metanoia, to a self-help understanding of ourselves that our sins are just individual peccadillos which define us. I'm ok, you're ok has replaced the need for repentance uttered by the Orthodox (but still with great hope): "Image am I of Your unutterable glory, though I bear the scars of my stumblings. Have compassion on me, the work of Your hands, O Sovereign Lord, and cleanse me through Your loving-kindness; and the homeland of my heart's desire bestow on me by making me a citizen of Paradise."

So, this is my plea. Let us bring back solemnity to funerals. It is ok to grieve and it is ok to admit that the deceased is approaching judgment before Almighty God. It is, in my estimation, not only psychologically healthy but part of our venerable tradition.

You Should Become a Bishop

NOT.

When I entered this movement in 2000, I was optimistic and hopeful. I left a radical traditionalist Catholic context to enter into a church which as doctrinally and liturgically traditional with a pastoral outlook. I was eventually ordained in 2007. During my training and after my ordination, I served in a parish and had the benefit of growing it from 10 people to 40-50 people. It was an ideal situation that gave me a lot of joy. A social creature, I have always enjoyed being with people so this was the perfect fit.

I subsequently made a change which led to my joining another group in the same tradition in 2012. At that time, I was publicly asked to accept consecration as a bishop to grow the mission of the church. For me, it seemed at that time it made sense. Being as a bishop would allow me to help others on their journey as well as build up many communities instead of just one local one. It also would give me the autonomy to ensure that I could go where I needed to fit my calling. The independence it offered was appealing because I could guard my heart and control my destiny. So, I chose to begin ministry as a bishop.

I did not anticipate how this would change things in my life. Overnight, my relationships changed. Friends supported me and criticized me. People became both warmer and colder. There was more scrutiny over my actions. It is not just an ontological change--there are real, impactful changes that happen when you are consecrated. Mostly they are because of the projections that other people have about the episcopacy.

After consecration, I cannot say that my life improved a great deal. People are consecrated as bishop for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes it's merited. Sometimes it's for prestige. Sometimes it's the right place at the right time. Sometimes it's independence. Sometimes it's necessity. There is everything in between. For me, it did not bring a lot of comfort but was much more complicated!

I never really cared about the prestige. I have plenty of fulfillment in my life. I have people who love me and I have a solid career with multiple accredited graduate degrees. So, becoming a bishop did not "fill that cup." In fact, it made it more difficult. There are people who join this movement to become a bishop and like to be called by exalted titles or to receive the prestige of the episcopacy. However, the episcopacy in our movement is not an imperial episcopacy with the chancellery, personal secretary, episcopal palace, etc. So, for many people when when you introduce yourself as bishop and are in charge of less than others think you should be in charge of, you look crazy. I tried to downplay the episcopacy because I did not want to look absolutely insane to outsiders. 

I also got thrown more into the politics of everything. Suddenly, I had to look more closely at each situation. I was responsible for other people and more souls, and I had to respond accordingly. I had to tell more people yes for ordination or no. These were difficult, life-changing decisions for people. They have weighed heavily on me. While I do like being informed, I have not particularly enjoyed being thrown into the mix of politics within my own jurisdiction or others. It has caused a lot of hurt and damaged friendships.

But, lest you think that this post is too depressing, I will add that there have been moments of extreme joy. I have had the opportunity to meet some wonderful people and be part of their vocational journey. I have ordained people who I unequivocally knew that God called to ordained ministry. I get to minister alongside people I trust and that I deeply care about. I realized my duty and my obligations and helped people to achieve what they have been called to do. For that, I am forever grateful.

But, do not think that your life will immediately improve once you are consecrated. And do not look to it as the best thing that can happen to you. It is not. This does not mean that I am leaving or ready to resign the episcopacy, but know that it is not the panacea that you might imagine. I offer these words of reflection on 10 years of a bishop. They are just a reflection of the good, the bad, and the ugly. If I had to do it over again, sometimes I don't know that I would. What makes it worth it are the other clergy who I get the deep honor to support and the people they serve. But I also feel why people feel they need to be consecrated, because of the lack of good order or understanding of some bishops in the movement. Obviously, not all. But, noting that, I am so glad that despite the challenges that bishops face, I face it with supportive clergy for whom I care a great deal. The priests and people with whom I minister make all the difference. I hope that my advice gives you something to ponder or at least gives you some pause.

"One of the things you will do as a bishop is disappoint people." - Rowan Williams

Photo: LawrenceOP

RIP: Metropolitan Kallistos (Ware)

“If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants” stated Sir Isaac Newton. One of those giants is Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, and I know that very few people (myself included) will ever see beyond him. Metropolitan Kallistos, born Timothy Ware, began life as an Anglican. In 1958, at the age of 24, he embraced Orthodoxy and traveled to various monasteries around North America and Europe over the period of several years. In 1966 he was ordained a priest and tonsured a monk. In 1982, he was consecrated as Bishop of Diokleia.

I first came to Metropolitan Kallistos, as did many people, through his book entitled "The Orthodox Church." Orthodoxy, to me as an outsider, seemed unreasonably complex and unintelligible. The liturgy, with its many books, baffled me as did the Orthodox understanding of the Canons. Through him, however, I learned to appreciate the context in which Orthodox theology and practice was formed. I also grew to love Orthodoxy and the tradition it represents.

My greatest admiration of Metropolitan Kallistos came, however, through his understanding of the importance of the local community. For him, Orthodoxy was no mere museum piece. It was the dynamic Body of Christ, formed by many people throughout time immemorial who were earnest and sincere. An indication of this is though his presentation from the St. Sergius Institute in 2005: "Neither an Ecumenical Council, nor the Patriarchate of Constantinople or of Moscow, nor any other Mother-Church can create a new local Church. The most that they can do is to recognise such a Church. But the act of creation must be carried out in situ, locally, by the living Eucharistic cells which are called to gradually make up the body of a new local Church" (with thanks to the Orthodox Church of the Gauls). 

Metropolitan Kallistos was also not afraid to step into controversy. An oft-written criticism of him was his willingness to be open to the gay and lesbian community. In The Wheel, Issue 13/14, Spring/Summer 2018, Metropolitan Kallistos said, in part: "This argument, however, places us in difficulty. Persons of heterosexual orientation have the option of getting married, and so in a positive way they can fulfil their erotic desire with the Church’s blessing through the God-given sacrament of holy matrimony. But homosexuals have no such option. In the words of Vasileios Thermos, 'A homosexual subject is called to lead a celibate life without feeling a vocation for it.' Are we right to impose this heavy burden on the homosexual?" See: https://www.wheeljournal.com/13-14-ware.

An image is given of Metropolitan Kallistos as a pastoral man. Through his writings, we know that he was willing to ask difficult questions while still affirming the uniqueness and call of the individual community to set its destiny. Besides Archbishop Lazar, few Orthodox figures are willing to tempt controversy by even asking questions on how modern issues affect answers to questions given centuries ago.

For me personally, my spiritual life has been enriched because of him. It was through his translation of the Philokalia, with other writers, that I learned the Early Fathers more intently and how to deepen my spiritual life. I am sad that I never had the opportunity to meet him, but pray I will after this life. May his memory be eternal!

“We see that it is not the task of Christianity to provide easy answers to every question, but to make us progressively aware of a mystery. God is not so much the object of our knowledge as the cause of our wonder.”- Metropolitan Kallistos

Image: Wikipedia, User Narsil, 2008.

Loss among Independent Catholics

Forgive an uncharacteristically sentimental post, but please indulge me for a moment. When I entered this movement in 2000, I entered full of hope and opportunity. I was young and saw the movement as a way that I could help other people who felt marginalized by the Church. Here was a place where I could minister in the margins and meet like-minded clergy with the same mission and ideals. I thought I would stay on the same path forever, but things in my life changed. I struggled with my bishop and relied on past friendships to make changes which I felt better suited my life at the time. The break with my bishop was painful for both of us, but it was a necessary step. This break would later be healed, but it was difficult at the time.

I came away from this experience cognizant of the pain that it caused the bishop (and me). I am sympathetic to the pain that comes from having to leave an ecclesiastical relationship because it is not best for you at the moment. Fast forward a decade, and I have also seen it first hand from the opposite side. I think that is something that no one prepares you for in this movement--the realization of loss. Traditionally, in the mainstream, you enter a church and continue through seminary. You make friends in seminary that stay with you throughout your life, and you rely on each other. There will be loss--attrition, death, etc. but you still have a cohort of people with whom you are close. It is different in the Independent Movement because we are so small. Every relationship is amplified and means more in a jurisdiction and as a friendship.

I think this is what makes it so much more difficult, and there are different scenarios of loss. The first loss is often the most common--someone leaves us to become a bishop. We are trained that becoming a bishop will solve all of our problems, and bring us supreme happiness. It is exactly the opposite. Yet, time and time again I have seen someone leave their jurisdiction and sever friendships to become a bishop. I have been in that position and I am wiser now. I know it is unhelpful to look back and say "don't make this mistake," but I'm putting it out there. 

Another loss is when someone abandons the priesthood or leaves the movement entirely. I have seen this as well and it is painful. The relationship you had previously changes in many ways. Previously, you shared the same goals but they are different now. They become involved in their new community or abandon the priesthood, and there is a loss of fraternity that is deeply felt. Or, perhaps they leave to join another group. This may be good for everyone in the long run, but there still is a sense of loss even if it is best for all involved. Finally, there is also the loss of common geography. You have a kindred relationship with someone who has to move away for a job, family, etc. Suddenly the clericus that you have formed is now done by Zoom and phone calls. Visits lessen the pain, but there is little replacement for being together and "breaking bread."

I have, to some extent, experienced all of these things. Unfortunately, I have no wise words for making things better. People will come into your life for a season and will leave. They will want to be consecrated to the episcopacy, want to exit the movement, need to move, etc. Each loss is, again, more amplified because of our size. I have seen some people try to mitigate this to some extent. A dear friend of mine has released attachment from ordination. This person ordains people outside their jurisdiction with no expectation of joining, so they are a "free agent" except for mutual support. This can help mitigate loss and liability. Others do not seem to be affected by loss. They get upset or frustrated but there are no long-term effects. 

I'm not saying that everyone has to be in the same group to feel fraternity or togetherness. The ISM is full of friendships which have formed through mutual respect and understanding and not jurisdictional affiliation. What I am saying is that when that mutual commitment has been made, it can often be much more difficult than in mainstream churches when it is severed. But I do feel a duty to warn everyone who enters this movement that loss is something they will experience. It never gets easier, but at least if you know it is something to anticipate.

“Love and sacrifice are closely linked, like the sun and the light. We cannot love without suffering and we cannot suffer without love.” - Saint Gianna Beretta Molla