Thomas O’Loughlin is a priest of the Catholic Diocese of Arundel and Brighton and professor of historical theology at the University of Nottingham (UK). His latest book is Eating Together, Becoming One: Taking Up Pope Francis’s Call to Theologians (Liturgical Press, 2019). Reprinted with permission from La Croix International December 14, 2020. [s2If current_user_can(access_s2member_level2)]

The horrors we read about in the McCarrick Report and the UK’s Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse Report – both of which appeared by coincidence almost simultaneously – will continue to send shockwaves through the Catholic Church for decades to come.

Even Catholics who have defended the Church’s good name during the last three decades of scandals have found these indictments to be the last straw. Moreover, the failure of leaders to fall on their swords has led to gasps of incredulity.

One cannot fall back on the defence of “I am following orders” if that means, in actual fact, that one is denying moral responsibility.

Yet that is what is happening and often Catholics are left wondering: why do they not see that if they have been so found wanting, they must cease to claim any sort of leadership.

We need the equivalent of “dishonourable discharge”

It is not that they – be they priests, bishops, cardinals or even a pope – should resign and leave the limelight, but they should see that their continued appearance as anything other than failures should be manifest.

In effect, we need the equivalent of the military sentence of “dishonourable discharge”.

The actors concerned must be seen to be no longer senior figures in the Church. They must not even be seen in their clerical uniform lest they bring dishonour on that uniform, which is in turn dishonour on the ministry of the Church, and in turn the integrity of the Gospel’s proclamation.

But many Catholics are not simply shocked at the affront given by those who appear not to recognize their own responsibility. They are also bewildered that men who are supposedly dedicated to the Gospel cannot see that their behaviour is undermining the credibility of the whole Church.

How, they ask, is it that these men – from the retired pope down to diocesan officials – think they still are somehow witnesses to Jesus?

Clericalism as a fundamental disordering

The simple answer is clericalism – as is clear from both of the reports.

Clericalism: the notion that their solidarity as clerics is greater than their solidarity with the whole of the baptized People of God.

They imagine their duties to support one another is greater than their duty to support those who are the victims of criminal violence. They see loyalty and esprit de corps (given a pious sugar coating as “the fraternity of the priesthood”) as more important than personal responsibility for doing the truth in charity.

But surely clericalism is on the wane, right? Clericalism does affect everything, surely? And – for many clerics – it seems to be a charge that sweeps them along and for which they, just ordinary parish priests, cannot be blamed!

Unfortunately, as both reports show – the report on England far more explicitly than that carried out by the Vatican – clericalism is pervasive and perverting. But it is often hiding in plain sight!

Seeing clericalism close to you

Here is a photograph of a church – it could be any small parish church. It is a small older building that was updated to implement the needs to reform the liturgy that were identified in the mid-twentieth century by the Second Vatican Council (1962-65).

Moreover, unlike in so many places where this renewal was only half-hearted, minimally implemented, or just botched, this is a very good example of seeking to do what the Council asked.

At a glance, we can see that the table of the Eucharist is distinctly made to look like a table and there is room for people to move around it as befits a table. As an object it is free from clutter: it is the table – the table of the Lord – that is significant, and this is not distracted by other images, decorations, or signs attached to it.

Second, there is a permanent place for reading the scriptures. The table of the word has an intrinsic and clear place in the liturgy. The two tables – of word and sacrament – are clearly the focus for the gathering.

This is helped by the fact that the place for the reserved sacrament has been moved to the side wall. It still has a place of honour, can be the focus of private prayer outside of the liturgy by anyone visiting the church, but it is not in such a central position that it is distracting attention during the actual celebration of the Eucharist.

Anyone with a tick-box list for items that should be included in any renewal would give this layout almost full marks. Indeed, a great many churches could learn a great deal from it. It is because it is such a good example that it is also a warning about clericalism.

Now focus on the picture’s foreground. What do you see?

Barriers

This church pre-supposes that the liturgy is made up of two groups separated by a set of rails. On one side is the holy space – “the sanctuary” – and on the other the ordinary. On one side is the sacred person and on the other those who are “merely” the people.

One is, quite literally cut off from the other. One is the part of the man who offers the Eucharist, the other is for those who take part by attending.

Fundamental to this view is division – the Church is a binary reality rather than a unity. While the old binaries of a special language and a minimal vision have been removed, the underlying attitude of separation is alive and well.

Now look at this photograph taken from the back of that church.

It is clear that there are two groups: the clergy and the people. They are as different as any two groups can be in a building.

Think of a hospital. There are special places for the doctors and nurses only, and places where they interact with the patients.

Think of a school. There is there is students’ areas and the teachers’ room where no student enters. Think of a bank where there are also grilles and barriers between the bank employees and the customers.

On those gates in the photograph, they might as well hang a sign that says, “STAFF ONLY”.

As long as we live and worship in a Church that thinks in these secular terms of the staff and the customers, the first loyalty of those who see their place as beyond those rails will be towards one another.

They will think of themselves as men apart – and justify this with high-sounding theological words – rather than as fellow disciples with every other baptized sister and brother on our common pilgrimage of faith.

But my church does not have rails anymore!

Few churches now have actual rails, but just look at this: When this church is full of people for a celebration of the Eucharist, I wonder if someone sitting in the fifth pew down feels that they are as much a celebrant as the man sitting in the big chair behind the table?

And, more importantly, does that man in the special chair think that the person is the tenth pew is a celebrant? As long as we have to ask that question, we will have clericalism – and its problems.

We will not fix clericalism with architecture. But architecture may maintain and reinforce the attitudes we claim – listening to Pope Francis – we are abandoning.

And, certainly, architecture can provide a means for making the problems visible. [/s2If]

Peter Johnstone, Co-Convener, Australasian Catholic Coalition for Church Reform, reflects on the role of the laity after reading a new book, We too: The Laity Speaks! [s2If current_user_can(access_s2member_level2)]

We too: The Laity Speaks! (Berise Heasly  & John D’Arcy May, Coventry Press, Bayswater VIC, 2020) focusses on the most critical aspect of Church reform, the involvement of the laity, and particularly the shameful exclusion of women from the governance of the Church.

The book is about the failure of the Church to draw adequately on the talents and wisdom of the Church’s people in the work of the Church.

The title We too: The Laity Speaks! is particularly apt and well-chosen – the exclamation mark recognises that speaking is not something that Catholics are encouraged to do. Neither our bishops nor we the laity are used to any critical views of the laity being openly expressed, or acknowledged, let alone listened to or respected. That’s not healthy.

Truth can be harsh and there are some truthful and harsh judgements in this book that must be spoken and that cry out for remedies. That requires courage on the part of the laity, and courage from our leaders.

We Catholics find ourselves somewhat conflicted in criticising our Church. Our faith is by its nature at the centre of our lives, but those demanding renewal of our institutional Church are dismissed by the Church’s leaders and clerics. Rarely are the concerns of the laity respected, even acknowledged. Letters are binned and public criticism is condemned. But a true commitment to faith demands that the faithful hold their institutional Church to account, a Church that in many ways acts contrary to that faith.

Those seeking reform simply want a Church that models our faith and is seen to practise what it preaches, a Church that faithfully reflects the teachings of Jesus in pursuing his mission. ‘We too’ contains informed comment on the state of our Church and commitment to our faith. This book is the work of truly committed Catholic Christians who recognise that faith has no room for hypocrisy.

The book’s theme is for the laity to ‘wake up’ and to ‘speak up’. We the laity, the ‘People in the Pews’, must accept our responsibilities, note the desperate signs of the times and, in the words of the editors, “we must fuse secular and sacred elements of life into a balanced and evolving experience of faith . . .”

‘We too’ has excellent contributors to attempt that fusion. Berise Heasly builds on her excellent work in ‘Call No One Father’, in which she names and shames the evils of clericalism in the context of a call for accountability, transparency and inclusion. Berise and John D’Arcy May have done their job as editors in bringing together a wide range of views and expertise to ensure a balanced and thoughtful consideration of that unifying theme. They challenge the Plenary Council to “take full account of the issues raised”.

That challenge has certainly not been taken up by the bishops at their Conference meeting in November where they approved a less than enthusiastic response to their commissioned report, “The Light from the Southern Cross’, a considered assessment from a range of well-qualified people from Australia and overseas on the Church’s governance. The response does not commit to implementation of the more substantial and critical governance recommendations, those that would ensure the ongoing and effective nature of renewal. In response to LSC ‘s call for diocesan pastoral councils in all dioceses, the bishops state that the establishment of diocesan pastoral councils is ‘voluntary’, a clear misrepresentation of canon law. The fact is that very few bishops in Australia have established diocesan pastoral councils despite an actual requirement of canon 511 that: In each diocese, in so far as pastoral circumstances suggest, a pastoral council is to be established. That is not ‘voluntary’, and I am not aware of any bishop suggesting pastoral circumstances that preclude such a council. Other responses reinforce this apparent lack of respect for the laity’s contribution to Church governance.

I’m reminded of some words in an Open Letter back in 2011 to the Australian bishops and Pope Benedict auspiced by Catholics for Renewal: The Church. . . does not yet embody the vision of Vatican II for a truly collegial Church in which decisions respect local cultures, communities and circumstances. Rather, it appears as an institution focussed on centralism, legalism and control, with few effective structures for listening and dialogue, and often more concerned with its institutional image and interests than the spirit of Christ (my emphasis).

‘We too’ is much more than a listing of the Church’s shortcomings. The experience and knowledge of the contributors presents an informed picture of the mission of our Church in the context of our faith and the facts of the Church straying from its mission.

I offer the following very selective comments on some contributions:

Sue Phillips draws on her extensive experience as a woman leader in the Church dealing with the anachronistic male leadership, noting that ‘we must hold our leaders to account’, ensuring that we are ‘permanently in a state of mission’

Marilyn Hatton focuses on the shameful lack of equality in our Church, proclaiming the devastating impact of an all-male hierarchy.

Eleanor Flynn asks why ‘we, the laity and especially women, allow ourselves to be talked at, talked down to, not given the facts and in general treated as second class citizens …?’

Janette Elliott focuses on the all-important spiritual context of our faith noting a powerful lesson from Julian of Norwich, that ‘the struggle for justice is at the centre of desire for the divine’.

Constant J Mews offers a sobering insight that the ‘roots of both synodality and clericalism go back to the time of Jesus’, noting the history of the people of God in selecting pastoral leaders.

Ian Hamilton asks: ‘Is it too harsh to say that the hierarchical, institutional and clerical world-views have been, and are, inimical to the demands of the truly spirit- filled mission of the church, as exemplified by the spirit-filled mission of Jesus?’

Paul Collins refers to Church leaders who ‘seem to be besotted with a narrow range of issues, focussing on gender, sex and reproduction.’ Tellingly, Paul notes that the ‘monumental’ challenge of evangelisation ‘doesn’t even seem to have entered the purview of those running the 2021 Plenary.’ He insists ‘evangelisation begins with pre-evangelisation’ for which ‘we have a massive amount of recovery work confronting us’, at the heart of which is the challenge of ‘connecting ecology with belief and theology’.

John D’Arcy May leaves us with this thought: ‘If the Plenary Council takes up and develops the legacy of Vatican II, there is a fair chance that these deeper relationships could be achieved. But it is a very big ‘if’.’ Yet our bishops claim as the primary aim of the Plenary Council ‘to bring to fuller realization within Australia the vision of the Second Vatican Council regarding the nature and mission of the church.’ And there’s the rub!

Berise Heasly highlights the need for courage amongst our bishops – an implicit theme of the book, noting ‘the defiance of some in the Australian hierarchy, for whom not even the manifest evil of child abuse was enough to prompt them to acknowledge that change was urgently needed.’

‘Speaking up’ is the great challenge facing us all as the people of God. ‘We too’ insists that the Australian Plenary Council be a vehicle for addressing the institutional Church’s lack of accountability, transparency and inclusion which has enabled so many failures.

A current issue in Victoria shows the dangers of the Church hierarchy presenting views publicly without hearing the laity. The Church has responded poorly to Victorian legislation to prohibit the injurious practice of so-called gay ‘conversion’ therapy, essentially practices that are designed to make young people of non-heterosexual orientation repulsed by their God-given sexuality. The legislation is intended to prevent injury to vulnerable people already suffering from societal prejudice; the legislation is consistent with Jesus’ instruction to ‘love one another’.

However, official Catholic responses have been to misrepresent grossly the legislation as: (t)he Andrews Government’s sinister and cynical attack on people of faith, claiming absurdly that the bill could crush any Christian expression of human sexuality, capturing homilists, scripture teachers and parents. These statements, presented as the Catholic response without any accountability to the faithful, are patently false and are demonstrably unChristian; they are not views representative of Catholics generally.

We too: The Laity Speaks! is about a dying autocracy no longer fit for purpose which must die as an autocracy for the Church to live, pursuing the mission of Jesus Christ. Courage is needed from both the people in the pews and from our leaders to ensure that our Church pursues one goal – to seek and do the will of God!

Our pastoral leaders constantly claim that the Plenary Council is the work of the Holy Spirit – a presumptuous claim at best, heretical at worst. The Holy Spirit will not be summoned. ‘Sophia’ expects us and our leaders to use our God-given skills to do everything in our power to discern and fulfil God’s will, and to pray that the Council be inspired.

There is much in this book to guide all the faithful, including our bishops, as we approach a critical opportunity for renewal offered by the Plenary Council. That Council desperately needs the knowledge, the spirituality, and the life skills of the people in the pews – and the courage of our bishops! [/s2If]