Sunday, October 15, 2023

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>

Friday, October 13, 2023

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.

Saturday, December 31, 2022

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

Monday, October 31, 2022

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.

Monday, September 19, 2022

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.

Sunday, September 11, 2022

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

Wednesday, August 24, 2022

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.