Let us talk about Catholic priests. Consider especially those who are now in their 60s, after a life of service to their church. They were seminarians in the heady days of Vatican II when everything seemed possible. They managed to survive the aftermath of was Humanae Vitae and continued to preach and counsel, to lead the sacred rites and to be faithful leaders of their flocks.
Some have directed retreats or preached parish missions; others have ministered to the young in schools and youth clubs; all have lived by the dictum that service to the least — the poor and mentally ill, the prisoners and prostitutes, the homeless and the addicted — is service to their god. But while their life has been exemplary, they cannot help being stained by association with those who have disgraced their calling.
In addition to this many priests see themselves as being under siege from an old guard in the Vatican. As this is written, six Irish priests have been silenced so that they cannot hear confessions or officiate at baptisms, weddings or funerals. There is some official term like 'had their faculties removed' but that sounds too painful. Two are Redemptorists; the others are a Passionist, an Augustinian, a Capuchin and a Marist — all order men. Tony Flannery, one of the Redemptorists thus silenced, has written of his experience.
In the aftermath of one of the reports on clerical sexual abuse in Ireland, he speculated on how difficult it would soon be to find priests for ordinary parish work. In that context, he said he did not believe 'the priesthood, as we currently have it in the church, originated with Jesus'.
He suggested that some time after Jesus 'a select and privileged group who had abrogated power and authority to themselves' claimed that priesthood had been instituted at the Last Supper. His view was that it is not the priest alone who has the power to celebrate the Eucharist but that this belongs to the whole community.
His writings brought him to the notice of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), the curial body responsible for defending orthodoxy. He was duly summoned to Rome to answer to them, through the Canadian Superior General of his order. They provided two A4 pages for the meeting, one detailing the charges and one telling his superior what he was to require the recalcitrant one to do. Both pages were unsigned and un-headed.
Interestingly, the final sentence on the second page, read, 'You are to instruct Fr Flannery to withdraw from his leadership role in the Association of Catholic Priests.' Flannery speculates that this was as much a problem as his perceived doctrinal errors.
The ACP, founded only two years earlier in 2010, had a membership of more than 800 and was seen as inimical to the concept of obedience to authority. As well as its obvious function as a fraternal organisation, it also assumed a legal role: 'One of the things we quickly learned to do was to advise priests never to go to meet their bishop or superior without knowing the purpose of the meeting.' A simple and wise precaution, but it is easy to imagine how it would be interpreted as bolshie talk that would scare the establishment.
In time, Flannery found a theologian who was able to compose a form of words on the priesthood that would satisfy the CDF while not changing much that he had written. Unfortunately, they now found other things in his writings — about clerical celibacy, the role of women in the church, human sexuality, sexual orientation — to which they objected.
He did not have as much wriggle room in these matters and decided that he did not want to play the game any longer. Instead, he wrote a document explaining his position on all of these issues, ending with 'I cannot do otherwise than follow my conscience. This is where I stand.'
Some of Flannery's supporters hope that Pope Francis will reinstate him and the five other Irish priests who have been silenced. It would be some admission that their lives of service had value. Vatican II must seem a long time ago for them.
Frank O'Shea is a Canberra writer.