priesthood

A More Sober View of Priesthood

by: Deacon Douglas McManaman

I was driving home from visiting one of my brothers in a town north of Toronto and noticed an article by Janet Smith about the nephew (Kevin Wells) of the priest who, when I was 17 years old and hitchhiking with my 5-String banjo to Nashville, TN, gave me a lift from Columbus, Ohio and took me to Erlanger, Kentucky (Monsignor Tom Wells). I asked my wife to read it to me in the car while I was driving.

I found that I did not agree with either of them in what they were writing (re: priests who belong to the SSPX). But a memory returned to me while the article was being read to me, a memory that contains what I believe is an important point about the priesthood that I think is more relevant today than years earlier. I remember complaining to Father Wells about the priests in Canada, that they are not like him and how ridiculous it was that for me to return to the Church, I had to be placed on a highway outside of Columbus, Ohio to encounter a priest who was driving from Washington DC on his way to Kentucky, because between Toronto and Nashville, there just weren’t any around to do the job that Father Wells was able to do. That was the general idea of what I was saying to him, if I remember correctly. In any case, what I do clearly remember is that he disagreed with me. And he was adamant. He said to me: “That was a graced moment”. He kept objecting and insisting that the two or three hour period in the car on the way to Kentucky was a graced moment.

Yes, I thought, it was indeed a graced moment, but I didn’t quite understand how that was inconsistent with the point I was making. It took some years for me to get the point–probably because I was blinded by “hero worship”, which in Jungian terms is the projection of the Hero archetype from my own unconscious mind to an individual person, in this case, Kevin’s uncle, Monsignor Tom Wells. He knew something about himself that I did not. What was that? Well, in my eyes Father Wells was larger than life, as all heroes are, but he knew better. He knew that he was not larger than life, and that what resulted from that car ride was the result of divine grace (a graced moment), not Father Wells. In other words, grace was present in me in such a way that I was disposed to see and understand things that were happening on a different level–Father Wells may not have even been aware that anything was happening on another level–in fact, given his delight at the marvels of divine providence months later, it is probably the case that he wasn’t. He was just driving the car, answering my questions to the best of his ability, most importantly relating to me at an eye to eye level (no condescension, pretension, nor airs), being the generous and joyful guy that he was. Had it not been a graced moment, had I not been disposed a certain way by that grace while Father Wells remained the same joyful and generous priest that he was, then life would have gone on and I would not have returned to the Church but would probably be playing in some Bluegrass band somewhere in the U.S. Father Wells had no power to change me, and he knew it. He knew it because he said that he in fact was not responsible for my return to the Church. Grace was. God can use anyone. As Jesus said: “I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham” (Mt 3, 9). He chose to use Father Wells as an instrument, but God could have used anybody. The instrument certainly has some importance–you can’t pick up a watermelon with a plastic fork–, but without the disposition brought about by divine grace–which depends entirely on the will of God at the moment according to the plan of providence–, that journey to Nashville would have been no different than any other journey.

And this is the problem I had with the title of Kevin’s book that I reviewed years ago: The Priests We Need to Save the Church. I was uncomfortable with the title, but decided not to give it too much thought at the time nor mention it to him. But the Church does not need saving. The Church is Holy and Immaculate, because She has been saved by Christ, and there are no priests who are going to save anyone, much less the Church. Any ordained priest who thinks he is going to save anyone is suffering from a bad case of grandiosity. This is why I no longer have the patience to read certain conservative Catholic journals–because most if not all of their writers seem to believe that they are vessels of truth that the world and the Church desperately need. In short, they are delusional. They are no more vessels of truth than your typical columnist from the National Catholic Reporter–and there are some very good writers there.

In the past, shortly after my return to the Church in 1979, there were days when leaving the church after mass I said to myself: “What a pathetic homily!”, when not even 10 seconds later I see a man going up to the pastor to say: “That was a great homily, Father. It touched me deeply”. Many times I thought a particular pastor was a dud, only to learn later how many other people in the parish thought otherwise and how much he did for them. Recently I was out with someone who has quite a harrowing life story, a tremendous near death experience, and in his mind the parish he belongs to is feeding him like there’s no tomorrow and he does not want to move. I didn’t dare tell him what I know about the parish and the pastor. Obviously, the Lord is doing something for these people, despite their pastor and his refusal to take advantage of all the gifted people ready to serve. He’s a stifler, but as Father Wells would say, “God is in control”, and He knows what He’s doing in allowing this, that, and the other thing. But his pastor is certainly not responsible for the good that seems to be happening outside of my purview, any more than a wrench is responsible for my new car’s smooth and reliable performance.

I move some people with my homilies and leave others unmoved, and my priest friends will move others and leave many unsatisfied. We are not all alike, not all at the same place, and certainly not all “spiritually starved”. No parish needs me, and Father Wells would certainly agree that no parish needed him. They need Christ, and I’m not Christ, and neither is he. I’m a very limited human being with a very limited grasp on things, and some people may benefit from my particular way of doing things, but not everyone. And I am certainly not going to be responsible for the salvation of anyone’s soul. God alone will be. In fact, my efforts at saving anyone may very well do more harm than good if those efforts are accompanied by inordinate zeal. And looking back at my life, I do often shake my head at myself, but God must know that at every stage of my life, I’m profoundly limited and continually make mistakes. Why? Because He knows everything. More than that, He is all powerful, so He can and will accomplish all that He wants. So why would I worry? And why are any of us worrying? Why do so many of us behave like a bunch of frantic neurotics with a seriously flawed Manichean worldview that to us appears as orthodoxy? How many times did Jesus say: “Don’t worry”? Did he not say “Take heart, I have overcome the world” (Jn 16, 33)? Young priests fresh out of the seminary have not been chosen to save the Church. After 40 or more years in the priesthood, if they’ve learned anything at all, they are going to look back and say to themselves: “I knew nothing. I was not the slightest bit superior to anyone, and looking back I have to thank so many people for putting up with my obnoxious delusions rooted in the inexperience that is part and parcel of youth. The problem is I can’t, because most of them are dead and buried”.

 

Womanhood and Priesthood

Deacon Douglas McManaman

At a recent bible study, I was asked how it is that Adam prefigures Christ. I don’t believe there is a simple and single answer to this question, but diving into it opens up an interesting horizon in light of which we may be able to shed light on other important questions having to do with the role of women and perhaps the ordination of women.

Those who posed the question were puzzled that Adam could prefigure Christ; for Adam is fallen, but Christ is perfect; Adam was disobedient, while Christ was obedient; Adam was married but Christ was not, and Adam was created while Christ is the eternal Person of the Son made flesh, etc.  

Jesus is the second Adam, or last Adam (Rom 5, 12-21; 1 Cor 15: 22, 44-49; Eph 1:10). All things were created “through him and for him” (Col 1, 16). The first Adam is indeed a figure of Christ. We say this because God created Adam (humanity) in his image, in the image of God he created them, male and female he created them. What this means is that there are two ways to be “Adam”, a male way and a female way. It is not Adam the male who was created in the image and likeness of God while the female was in some ways secondary. Rather, Adam is both zakar (male) and neqebah (female). These two Hebrew words imply relation to one another. Hence, the human person is fundamentally relational; in other words, the one cannot be understood without the other. Zakar and neqebah imply an “existing towards one another”, for zakar (male) means “the one who has a tip” and neqebah (female) means “the one who is punctured”. The relationship of the sexes is clearly implied; for each one individually is reproductively incomplete, but together, in the act of sexual union, they become reproductively one organism.

According to the Genesis text, it is not the male (zakar) by himself who is the image (zelem/eikon) of God, nor is it the female (neqebah) by herself who is the image of God; both of them together constitute the divine icon that is Adam. And so God in His active generosity, in His effusive act of communicating the goodness of existence to creatures, is represented in the icon of male and female, joined in the one flesh union of marriage. It is important not to overstate the passive element belonging to the female in the act of sexual union. Her ovum actively “goes out” to meet the male seed, and so her role is not entirely passive. The first parents (Adam) are one body, one flesh, who prefigure Christ, who is one body with his Church.

In the second creation story, the man is put into a deep sleep and from his side, the woman is formed. This allegorical imagery foreshadows the cross on which Christ enters the sleep of death, and from his side the Church, his bride, is born–blood and water proceed from his side, symbolizing the Eucharist and baptism; for it is through baptism that one becomes joined to Christ’s Mystical Body, and of course the Eucharist is Christ’s flesh and blood. As De Lubac famously said: “The Church makes the Eucharist and the Eucharist makes the Church.”

Christ’s existence is a relational existence. He is the Son, the Second Person of the Trinity, which is a subsistent relation. And since in the flesh, he is one Person, Christ continues to exist “in relation to…” He came to redeem his bride, the Church, the New Israel. The existence of the first Adam, as we said above, is relational, for Adam includes zakar and neqebah who exist in relation to one another (who face one another). Their relationship is nuptial, and of course the relationship between God and Israel is nuptial, and the relationship between Christ and the Church is nuptial, and heaven will be an eternal wedding banquet (Mt 22, 1-14). 

“Adam’s” existence is ordered to Christ, who is the fulfillment of humanity (Adam). We read in section 22 of Gaudium et Spes that “…only in the mystery of the Incarnate Word does the mystery of man take on light”. And so “Adam” indeed prefigures Christ, who in turn is the perfection of Adam (humanity). But “Adam” is not a man in the sense of an individual ‘male’, but ‘them’, male and female in relation to one another. The two in relation are the ‘icon’ or image of God. This is a relationship that gets disrupted or distorted as a result of the fall: “You shall have desire for your husband, but he will dominate you” (or rule over you) (Gn 3, 16). In other words, the domination and subordination of women is not part of God’s plan for creation, but is the result of sin. Male and female were created equal, “of the same stuff” (from his side). In fact, the image of woman coming from the side of the man suggests that her role is to reach down and call forth the man to what is higher, for he came from the mud of the earth, the soil, while she came from a higher place. But the history of humanity is a history of oppression, including the oppression of women. 

Now, the entire Church is woman, the New Israel, the Bride of Christ, and she has been given authority, but the exercise of this authority is to be entirely unlike that of the gentiles: “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and the great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave. Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mt 20, 25-28).

Furthermore, the entire Church is “priest”. In the evening prayer for Thursday within the octave of Easter, the Church prays: “Almighty God, ever-living mystery of unity and Trinity, you gave life to the new Israel by birth from water and the Spirit, and made it a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a people set apart as your eternal possession. May all those you have called to walk in the splendor of the new light render you fitting service and adoration.” Each of the baptized is anointed priest, prophet, and king, and so with regard to the royal priesthood of the faithful, gender is irrelevant–certainly not an impediment. The entire Church is a “chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession, to proclaim the virtues of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light” (1 Pt 2, 9). And so the Church as a whole is a priestly people and at the same time bride and mother (female); for it is the entire congregation that offers gifts to be consecrated. The congregation are not simply passive observers, but active agents, priests offering their gifts, their labors, their sufferings and toil, their bread and wine, placed at the foot of the altar; the ministerial priest offers it on behalf of the entire congregation, of which he too is a part. Christ receives those gifts and changes them into himself, and returns them to us as our food. In consuming the Bread of Life, we become Christ, that is, all our matter becomes Christ–the cosmos becomes Christ in us. 

So it seems there is no incongruity between priesthood and womanhood, for the entire Church is both woman and priest. Indeed, the priest is the icon of Christ, but Adam prefigures Christ, and Adam (zakar and neqebah) exists as the image or eikon of God who became flesh in Christ, “…a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek” (Heb 7, 17). The original icon that Adam is includes both male and female. The Church cannot be understood except in relation to Christ, for she is his body, and thus woman cannot be understood except in relation to Christ. The woman that is the Church is the sacrament of Christ, and she participates in his priesthood.

One year during a Confirmation class in which we were talking about the sacraments, one clever young lady put up her hand and asked: “Why is it that men are able to receive all seven sacraments, but women have access to only six?” That was a brilliant way of formulating the question. I did not have time to go into a detailed explanation of the reason the Roman Church does not ordain women, for it would not do justice to the precise formulation of her question anyway. Moreover, it is increasingly difficult for me to see any genuinely compelling reason for the exclusion of women from the sacrament of Holy Orders. Perhaps the theology of sexual complementarity, focused exclusively on the sexual act itself according to the strict categories of activity and passivity, a model currently employed to maintain an all male priesthood, is really a theologically sophisticated rationalization of an outdated sexist divide.