The supine acceptance of Vatican authority is driving clergy out of office, writes Colum Kenny
THE
Irish Bishops Conference has refused to meet the Association of
Catholic Priests.
The hierarchy will not dignify them with a high-level
meeting.
'Cardinal snubs plea by liberal priests for meeting,'
shouted one headline. But the Association of Catholic Priests is no
fringe group of lax priests. It represents more than 1,000 members. The
laity may be surprised to learn that there are still that many priests
in Ireland.
The behaviour of the Irish hierarchy since Vatican II
has driven committed priests and nuns out of office. And it has driven
many other Catholics to despair. Its recent censoring of outspoken
priests to placate the Vatican now means that even a priest as
mainstream as Fr Brian D'Arcy has to submit his newspaper columns for
approval in advance of publication.
Last week, D'Arcy appeared on a
special documentary made by BBC Northern Ireland about his life and
thoughts. He asked, "How can I stay in a Church which I've served for 50
years and which now doesn't trust me to speak my mind about religion?".
Parishes
are merging as the number of priests decline. Last week, Ballina was
shocked by the sudden death of local priest and theologian Muredach
Tuffy, aged 39.
Fr Tony Flannery of the Association of Catholic
Priests said last week that, "Our indication is that the church is in
very serious difficulty and we believe that it is of crucial importance
that all sections of the church in Ireland begin to face this reality
and that a dialogue is created among us all."
The failure of
church authorities to engage in dialogue and to embark on a radical
journey of change led Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini to say in his last
interview before he died this year that his Catholic Church is 200 years
behind the times.
Pope Benedict and his most loyal hierarchies
seem to like it that way. They appear not to worry that the sin of pride
may be blinding them to their own faults.
Not content to leave
well enough alone, they have been pursuing nuns in the USA, academics in
Latin America and priests who write in Ireland. There is no space for
serious disagreement or for effective consultation within the church.
The
Irish hierarchy, whose handling of child abuse makes the recent BBC's
management of the scandal over Jimmy Savile look good, seems to have
remained fundamentally unperturbed by every disaster that it has visited
on its church.
Bishops continue to play the kind of
hair-splitting, legalistic games that have brought Ireland to its knees
both in the civil and religious sphere, as powerful elites guard their
rights and privileges. In this instance, the hierarchy is telling the
Association of Catholic Priests that any engagement with it "would best
take place at local level".
In theory, this may seem reasonable.
In practice, it is the kiss of death for what priests wish to achieve in
terms of renewal and change in their church. It is a policy of divide
and conquer, of letting the water run into sand. It has as much chance
of ultimately changing power structures within the church as have public
consultations of changing the way that Irish politicians make
decisions.
It is not surprising that the Irish hierarchy cannot
share power with priests, never mind nuns or the laity. It has been
supine in its acceptance of Vatican authority as Rome edges ever further
away from the spirit of Vatican II.
In her new book on how the
second Vatican Council's teachings on collegiality were sidetracked or
ignored, Ireland's former president Mary McAleese writes that, "A
quiescent episcopacy failed to carry forward the conciliar agenda on
Episcopal collegiality with any enthusiasm."
Mary McAleese's new
book, Quo Vadis, is a good gift for anyone who cares about the future of
Christianity in Europe. It is balanced and fair, its title being the
Latin translation of an urgent question that Jesus once asked Peter:
"Where are you going?"
McAleese, now studying in Rome for a
doctorate in church law, identifies ways in which both critics and
defenders of the current status quo within the Catholic Church may yet
find common ground in Christ. That is, of course, if they actually want
to share power in a way that is appropriate to democratic societies
rather than to the Roman Empire.
The Catholic Church in Ireland is
increasingly absent for lay people, its presence in their communities
withering and its evident priorities irrelevant. The continuing exercise
of absolute power with the church is not inspiring, especially when
many Irish people currently feel oppressed by circumstances.
In
his final interview, Cardinal Martini, who himself once might have been
Pope, said: "I advise the Pope and the bishops to look for 12 people
outside the lines for administrative posts -- people who are close to
the poorest and who are surrounded by young people and are trying out
new things. We need that comparison with people who are on fire so that
the spirit can spread everywhere."
But the present Pope and many
of his most obedient bishops seem to have closed the door. Allying
themselves with some of the most reactionary political and social
elements, they rebuff nuns and priests who have devoted their lives to
their church -- and offer the Irish people a stone when what is needed
is bread.
Professor Colum Kenny teaches a course in Belief and Communication at DCU