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In praise of our priests
By Dorothy Cummings McLean
June 26, 2009
Dorothy Cummings McLean
This is my fourth attempt to write a column to celebrate the Year for Priests. This should not be difficult. I’ve gone to Mass my entire life. I went to theology school. I lived as a guest in a seminary for two months. I’ve met priests from all over the world. So why the writer’s block?
It could be prudence. One must be careful when writing about groups to which one does not belong. Yes, I understand there is a “priesthood of the laity” and that I participate in this priesthood through prayer, personal sacrifices and Mass attendance. But beyond that there is a “priesthood of the priests,” which is different in important, ancient ways.
It could be prudence. One must be careful when writing about groups to which one does not belong. Yes, I understand there is a “priesthood of the laity” and that I participate in this priesthood through prayer, personal sacrifices and Mass attendance. But beyond that there is a “priesthood of the priests,” which is different in important, ancient ways.
And yet the difference between priest and lay has been blurred in recent decades as lay people, including me, have taken jobs and received education that used to belong solely to priests. Meanwhile, many priests have quietly put aside some of the signs and symbols that marked them out as priests. Items of deeply symbolic priestly clothing, like maniples, have disappeared from liturgies, and many priests no longer wear clericals as they go about their work.
The introduction of married (formerly Anglican) priests to the Latin rite has underscored that celibacy, too, is technically optional.
But priestly ordination remains unchanged. Priests are men set apart, men who perform the holy Sacrifice of the Mass, forgive sins and preach the Gospel. Their role is clearly and beautifully described in Presbyterorum Ordinis (Decree on the Ministry and Life of Priests), one of the documents of Vatican II. This decree emphasizes that priests act in the person of Christ especially “as ministers of holy things, particularly in the Sacrifice of the Mass, the sacrifice of Christ who gave Himself for the Sanctification of Men.” And, in persona Christi, priests do indeed take centre stage during public worship.
This is perhaps even more true today than it was before 1970. Before that date, priests prayed on behalf of the church towards the altar. The altar was the focal point. After 1970, priests turned to face the congregation. The new focal point was their faces. Whereas once the Order of the Mass dominated, now the priest’s personality dominates. I think this is where my difficulty in writing this Year for Priests column comes from. I believe in the traditional priesthood, but I do not believe in priestly personality cults.
Once upon a time, it was unthinkable to “confuse the faithful.” Now the concept is treated as a joke, for the faithful balk at the idea that we are so easily confused. Nevertheless, many of us get confused, especially if we are children.
It confused me very much that the pastor of my first parish, a large, merry man, would cut or omit his homily because there was a CFL game on TV that afternoon. He made no bones about it; he always told us why he was cutting the homily, and the congregation giggled obediently. Later, a schoolmate and I discussed who made the better priest, this funny priest or his younger, more serious, associate. We decided that although the pastor was fun, the associate was holy, and thus the better priest. Ironically, the associate soon left to get married. And the funny priest is a faithful pastor today.
My family moved parishes, and the pastor of our new church never confused me at all. He always said Mass reverently, by the book, and his great devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary added a sweet, old-fashioned note to Sundays. His associates, however, did sometimes confuse me.
One, fresh from ministry to American inner city youth, outraged his new suburban charges by forcibly amalgamating the pub-crawling “Older Youth Group” with my under-age “Junior Youth Group.” We protested, and the hip, young associate pastor responded with hip, young, obscene language. The Junior Youth Group fell apart, and I went to Mass elsewhere. The pastor noticed my absence, questioned my mother and voiced relief I was still going to church.
It is difficult to write frankly about the priesthood because it is not an ideal but something made up of real, human priests. Some priests are reverent men. Some sacrifice reverence to comedy. Some priests have great personal sanctity. Some have mistresses on the side. Some wonderful priests leave to get married. Some flawed priests loyally stick to their posts through thick and thin. Some priests support their bishops. Some poke fun at them from the ambo. Some priests have helped me immensely. Some have made me cry with rage. But all of them, in a way neither I nor any other lay person ever can, have carried out the priesthood of Christ at the altar. And before that reality, I fall silent.
The introduction of married (formerly Anglican) priests to the Latin rite has underscored that celibacy, too, is technically optional.
But priestly ordination remains unchanged. Priests are men set apart, men who perform the holy Sacrifice of the Mass, forgive sins and preach the Gospel. Their role is clearly and beautifully described in Presbyterorum Ordinis (Decree on the Ministry and Life of Priests), one of the documents of Vatican II. This decree emphasizes that priests act in the person of Christ especially “as ministers of holy things, particularly in the Sacrifice of the Mass, the sacrifice of Christ who gave Himself for the Sanctification of Men.” And, in persona Christi, priests do indeed take centre stage during public worship.
This is perhaps even more true today than it was before 1970. Before that date, priests prayed on behalf of the church towards the altar. The altar was the focal point. After 1970, priests turned to face the congregation. The new focal point was their faces. Whereas once the Order of the Mass dominated, now the priest’s personality dominates. I think this is where my difficulty in writing this Year for Priests column comes from. I believe in the traditional priesthood, but I do not believe in priestly personality cults.
Once upon a time, it was unthinkable to “confuse the faithful.” Now the concept is treated as a joke, for the faithful balk at the idea that we are so easily confused. Nevertheless, many of us get confused, especially if we are children.
It confused me very much that the pastor of my first parish, a large, merry man, would cut or omit his homily because there was a CFL game on TV that afternoon. He made no bones about it; he always told us why he was cutting the homily, and the congregation giggled obediently. Later, a schoolmate and I discussed who made the better priest, this funny priest or his younger, more serious, associate. We decided that although the pastor was fun, the associate was holy, and thus the better priest. Ironically, the associate soon left to get married. And the funny priest is a faithful pastor today.
My family moved parishes, and the pastor of our new church never confused me at all. He always said Mass reverently, by the book, and his great devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary added a sweet, old-fashioned note to Sundays. His associates, however, did sometimes confuse me.
One, fresh from ministry to American inner city youth, outraged his new suburban charges by forcibly amalgamating the pub-crawling “Older Youth Group” with my under-age “Junior Youth Group.” We protested, and the hip, young associate pastor responded with hip, young, obscene language. The Junior Youth Group fell apart, and I went to Mass elsewhere. The pastor noticed my absence, questioned my mother and voiced relief I was still going to church.
It is difficult to write frankly about the priesthood because it is not an ideal but something made up of real, human priests. Some priests are reverent men. Some sacrifice reverence to comedy. Some priests have great personal sanctity. Some have mistresses on the side. Some wonderful priests leave to get married. Some flawed priests loyally stick to their posts through thick and thin. Some priests support their bishops. Some poke fun at them from the ambo. Some priests have helped me immensely. Some have made me cry with rage. But all of them, in a way neither I nor any other lay person ever can, have carried out the priesthood of Christ at the altar. And before that reality, I fall silent.
Dorothy Cummings McLean