Our readings for this Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time are very harmonious. Fundamentally, they are about pastoral leadership among God's People. It is actually our New Testament reading, taken from 1 Thessalonians, that gives us the model for pastoral leadership. Likely written about AD 50, it bears noting that in addition to being an authentically Pauline letter (i.e., it was written by Saint Paul), 1 Thessalonians is probably the first book of the New Testament to be written- its only rival for this distinction is 1 Corinthians.
I also want to point out that, like Jesus, Paul lived the words he preached. He pioneered what today we call "bi-vocational ministry." In other words, in addition to his apostolic ministry, wherever he went, Paul supported himself as a "tent maker," the proprietor of a canvas and awning business.
In light of something I posted on another platform this morning, it's interesting that these are the readings for today. Or, perhaps, it was these readings coupled with an experience I had this past week that drove me to post what I posted. It's a chicken and egg scenario. It would be easy, oh so easy, to address these readings in a way that ignores the elephant in the room.
What is this elephant? The elephant is clericalism. Clericalism is something that Pope Francis has been addressing since the beginning of his pontificate (see Daniel P. Horan's "Pope Francis reminds us — again — to reject clericalism"). So, it's been a focal point in the Church for more than a decade. The most likely way to ignore the elephant is to fast forward to the end of the Gospel and apply it to the assembly at large. But the target of these readings, if I may use that term, or, less stridently, those to whom these are directly addressed, is clearly those in Church leadership. This would be a great Sunday for a member of the laity to share a reflection on the readings!
Sadly, I would have to say, on the whole, clericalism is on the rise in the Church in the U.S. Hence, I think in many dioceses a reckoning will occur. I can't say with any certainity what this might look like anywhere, let alone everywhere, but it will happen. Venturing a guess, taking my own twenty years of pastoral experience as the starting point, I think it will look like more of what we already see: steady attrition.
Let's face it, most disaffected people just quietly slip away. Given that it's unlikely their presence is missed and so no one will reach out to them, I think that will be the way it continues to go down. I doubt that most people who leave will reaffiliate. They will probably personally retain vestiges of Catholic belief and practice but it's unlikely these will be handed down to the next generation. Unlike some countries, the United States does not have a deeply Catholic culture, so there aren't many opportunities to participate in public processions and the like.
In thinking about retaining vestiges of Catholic belief and practice, I recalled reading about John Waters' (Irish writer) Dad, an Irish postal worker. His Dad didn't go to Church and was, understandably for anyone of his generation in Ireland, quite anti-clerical. Nonetheless, he prayed the Rosary every night. Another example that comes to mind is Edith Piaf's lovely devotion to the Little Flower, which followed this same contour.
A mosaic in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome depicts Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. Shutterstock
While there are other factors that contribute to clericalism, a leading one is current programs of priestly formation. It seems to me that in many seminaries formation in priestly identity has regressed to a largely pre-Vatican II understanding. The trend now is for men to enter priestly formation younger than was the trend for several decades. This is neutral in and of itself, but this makes seminarians much more impressionable, thus making what they're taught more important.
A friend of mine, who is not a priest and who teaches in a seminary, told me about the seminary having a visiting professor several years ago for a semester. The visiting professor was a priest-theologian from France who had done a lot of work on theology and cinema. All of the students in the seminary's theologate had to take his seminar on theology and cinema. At the first seminar, one seminarian protested, asking why he had to take this "stupid" class when they should be studying weightier matters. The visiting Prof. responded calmly, "My dear boy, in France nobody goes to Mass but everyone goes to the movies."
A priest friend of mine, someone who embodies the kind of priesthood we should be creating, shared his experience of studying some years ago in Spain. He noted that, especially during Holy Week, huge crowds turned out for public processions and exhibited great piety and faith, Christian faith, but on Easter Sunday the churches are as empty as ever. In speaking with his Spanish professors, he learned that it was because people didn't trust the hierarchy of the Church due to their support of Franco. He described this as a "priestless Catholicism" in the streets. You know what? I think that probably sounds really good even to a lot of faithful Catholics right now.
In today's Gospel, Jesus does a total takedown of clericalism. Make no mistake about who both today's Old Testament reading and Gospel are talking to and about. How many Catholics are aware that calling priests "Father" is a relatively recent development? So many clerical honorifics! Jumping down to verse 11 of the twenty-third chapter of Saint Matthew's Gospel, Jesus repeats what for him, according to the Synoptics, is a common refrain: "The greatest among you must be your servant."
In Greek, the last word of Matthew 23:11 is diakonos. So, "the greatest among you must be your deacon." Probably the best title the Pope bears, one Francis seems to take seriously, is "Servant of the Servants of God"- Deacon of the Deacons.
One reason for the restored/renewed diaconate, being at what Lumen Gentium calls "the lower level of the hierarchy," is to work in this gap (sec. 29). I often think we're not doing this as well as we might. At least in some instances, because we're not allowed to. At a more theological level, in the Latin Church, the restored and renewed diaconate certainly rocked the cursus honorum, a huge shift that has yet to fully resonate theologically, that is, ecclesiologically.
Deacon, well said. Thank you!
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