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    Fr. Joseph Jenkins

  • The blog header depicts an important and yet mis-understood New Testament scene, Jesus flogging the money-changers out of the temple. I selected it because the faith that gives us consolation can also make us very uncomfortable. Both Divine Mercy and Divine Justice meet in Jesus. Priests are ministers of reconciliation, but never at the cost of truth. In or out of season, we must be courageous in preaching and living out the Gospel of Life. The title of my blog is a play on words, not Flogger Priest but Blogger Priest.

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Priestly Celibacy: Unity of the Priest & the Church

Both marriage and priestly celibacy demand an exchange of life and love. Obvious for marriage, how is it true for the priest? The pastor is consumed by love of the Church. Her ways are his ways. Often particularized in the daily life of a parish, the priest belongs to the Church. She owns him and their union is so intimate that his presence immediately signifies Christ and his Church. If a priest does wrong, critics fault the Church. If people are angry with the Church, they attack the priest. The Church cares for her priests and the priest nurtures, protects and clothes her mystical body. Their mutual love brings forth children, new life brought about through the regeneration of the baptismal font. The Eucharist is the sacramental supper table for the family of God. He keeps house with the Church, living where he works. While parents might read bedtime stories to their children; the priest daily proclaims the Greatest Story Ever Told. Like a good spouse and parent, he speaks and listens, challenges and consoles, chastises and forgives, disciplines and heals. While couples often engage in love-talk; prayer consecrates every day of the priest’s life. He intercedes for the Church before God. He rejoices and swoons in her message of salvation that is realized in her members. He weeps over the sins and neglect of her children. The priest is quick to defend the Church. He may or may not wear a ring, but he is clothed in distinctive garb and a collar to alert others of his identity. Like any married man, he is taken and he has a possessive and demanding spouse. He loves her and theirs is an everlasting love.

Priestly Celibacy: Reservations

I do acknowledge a certain foreboding about the Anglican accommodation. While the Pope can release future ministerial candidates from mandatory celibacy; he is not strictly enjoined to do so. Given the place of married ministers in their tradition, and the desire for sons to follow fathers into ministry, might we have a precarious situation facing us in the years to come? They will likely want what their fathers had. In addition, I fret somewhat about what the inclusion of married priests will do to the general psyche of our Catholic people. Most people are not theologians able to make important distinctions. There has been little in the way of catechesis for our own people so that they might understand. The line between doctrine and discipline is blurred for many of them. We have already seen them confused or given the wrong ideas from modern novelties like altar girls and extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion. What happens when more and more married priests enter our ranks? Even if we segregate these men into Anglican usage parishes, they are still Western rite and Catholics can fulfill their Sunday obligation in their churches.

Priestly Celibacy: The Marriage Analogy

The celibate priest signifies Christ, the great high priest and bridegroom of the Church. His role points to Christ: not exclusively as at the final consummation, but as he is right now. Like all sacraments, the priesthood targets mysteries real but unseen. We look toward the ordained man at the altar and we see Father Joe or Father Jim or Bishop Marty or Pope Francis. However, what we do not see with our physical eyes is that it is Jesus who offers the sacrifice of the Mass and who forgives our sins. More than this, when we look to the celibate priest, he has no helpmate or life-companion walking by his side. Instead, the People of God look to one another, particularly the laity, so as to recognize the other component which we do not fully see, the mystical bride of Christ, the Church. The sacrament of marriage conveys something of this mystery as an analogy between Christ as the groom and the Church as the bride. But in the ordained priest, we have a sacrament that goes beyond analogy. The priest at Mass is Jesus. There is one high priest. The spiritual character or seal upon the priest is permanent while marriage is “until death do we part.” Married priests are genuine priests; but there is an inherent tension between the wife in the flesh and the spiritual spouse, the Church. Celibacy removes any possible confusion. A married man belongs to his wife. The priest belongs to the Church.

There are certain critics who hate the marriage analogy employed in understanding the relationship of the priest to the Church. Nevertheless Christ’s union as bridegroom to his bride is fundamental. One churchman recently suggested that given the reemergence of married priests in Western Christianity, it was time for the concept to be discarded. It is contended that too much has been made of a dispensable discipline. The prudence of Church authority is questioned. How dare we make mandatory that which we know from tradition is only optional? Why would the Church deny herself worthwhile candidates for ministry, only because they are married and/or do not have the gift of celibacy? How is it fair that converts are ordained as married priests when we deny marriage to our men raised in the Roman Catholic tradition?

What is my response to these challenges? First, the marriage analogy finds its origin in Scripture and is the logical conclusion of a strict and real identification of the ordained priest with Jesus Christ. Second, the perfect continence practiced by many priests, going back to the apostolic and patristic periods, is evidence that the association has ancient roots; indeed, it is inexorably imbedded in our tradition and sacramental understanding. Third, the analogy carries a doctrinal weight that permeates into many other important questions, like the prohibition of women priests as an offensive type of same-sex bride-to-bride relationship. Fourth, while celibacy is a discipline it remains one with critical doctrinal implications for our understanding of Christ, the Church, and our sacraments. Fifth, while a few are released from the obligation, most are held accountable for mandatory celibacy; we have confidence that God will give this gift to men who are truly called. The concession to men entering from outside traditions is a temporary accommodation for unity and reconciliation. We should not be jealous of the mercy and generosity shown to others. Celibate men should be happy that they have been gifted with the better portion, and thus not want to deprive any of our co-religionists from knowing single-hearted love. Sixth, the celibate and married priesthoods are not the same. We do not look down upon our good married priests, but we would be liars to say there is no divide. The Church has consistently viewed celibate priesthood as the preferred model and thus has made it almost absolute.

Priestly Celibacy: Martyrdom

Martyrdom is an important religious theme and one that is associated with Christian celibacy. The meaning here is heavily dependent upon the witness of Christ. His death sets the parameters for understanding a whole host of topics. First, we do not die in vain. Christ’s death has saving value. He dies that we might live. While marriage is a sacrament open to the transmission of new human life; priestly celibacy is a form of loving that facilitates the life of grace and mercy in those who are served. The sacrifice of celibacy is not made in vain. Our Lord responds to Peter, “Amen, I say to you, there is no one who has given up house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands for my sake and for the sake of the gospel who will not receive a hundred times more now in this present age: houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and eternal life in the age to come. But many that are first will be last, and [the] last will be first” (Mark 10: 29-31). Surrendering such things now will merit compensation many times over in the kingdom. Second, Jesus dies on the Cross and he asks us to take up our crosses and follow him. We must die to self and practice sacrifice— both in worship and in our practical discipleship. Celibacy is a cross or genuine sacrifice on many levels: the abstention from sexual congress and marital intimacy, the lack of children that one might call his own, and the sublimation of corporeal passion and drive under mind and will. Third, Jesus grants us mercy in his saving death. It is here that Christian martyrdom is unique and radically distinguished from other types of martyrs. Christian martyrdom is not simply a sacrifice for a cause. A militant Islamic terrorist who blows himself up killing his enemies is judged by his handlers as a martyr. However, we would judge him as a murderer and as one who is likely damned for his terrible deed. The Christian martyr must die loving and forgiving his murderers. Similarly, the celibate priest surrenders sexual expression and romantic love out of a greater love for God that finds expression in his service. He is a minister of reconciliation. There should be no resentment over his sacrifice. He dies to self so that he might live for others. He cannot love his celibacy at the expense of closing himself to God, to the needs of others and/or by hating marriage.

Priestly Celibacy: Priesthood with a Difference

Married, single or celibate, we often experience this world as a veil of tears. The living is hard. We face many obstacles to happiness and security. Nothing lasts. Everyone faces the challenges of suffering, sickness and death. The celibate might live for the world to come, as a remarkable sign, and yet he does not escape the demands and trials of this world. We are called to know freedom in Jesus Christ. But, the bondage that arises from the world, the flesh and the devil is always seeking to ensnare us or draw us back in. Knowing that Jesus died that we might no longer be slaves to sin, we turn to repentance and faith. The celibate priest throws himself into the hands of God to be a sentinel for others in the race to true freedom.

Celibacy has such a high value or importance that it is worth all the applicable sacrifices. Those who question its worth for priestly ministry do not appreciate this fact. The Church is wise and prudent to insist upon it as a mandatory charism and discipline. It makes possible a priesthood with a positive difference. We do not belittle the contributions and valuable service of our few married priests; rather, we keep them in prayer as men who are obliged to parcel themselves out between the obligations associated with the marriage bed and the altar.

Priestly Celibacy: A Terrible Loss or Great Treasure?

Celibacy is often discussed in the context of a renunciation of the world through the self-denial of one of the natural exercises that men and women find most rewarding: the engagement of sexual congress. Of course, the apparent loss goes far deeper. There is the forfeiture of intimacy from a helpmate and the closure to the prospect of progeny. Many men and women feel that this loss would be too terrible to bear. And yet, some through circumstance never discover a spouse, or fail to pursue a love interest, or suffer a natural malady or other misfortune; with the end result being a permanent allotment to the single state. They may live in the hope that such a state might be stripped from them and replaced by matrimony; but, the celibate has put aside all such anticipation. He or she is not really single. They are taken. Indeed, some religious and clergy wear rings to signify their spiritual marriage. Celibacy is not one waiting at a bus station; no, it is the person reaching his or her destination. The Christian celibate sees his life not as a tragedy and loss, but as a joy and a gain. If he did not, then there would be a problem that left unresolved would sour his life and damage his discipleship. As I wrote before, marriage stops at the door of death; celibacy takes us clear through to the other side of that door.

The saints in heaven know a convergence of the mysteries of marriage and celibacy. Human saints will know bodily restoration and eternal celibate life. There is only one marriage in heaven and it is not carnal; it is the nuptial bond and banquet of the Lamb of God. The Church will become the immaculate bride of Christ.

Priestly Celibacy: Physical & Spiritual Strength

Primitive man, with the most bare-bones of civilization, seemed to appreciate that there was something singular about virginity or sexual purity. Our ancestors viewed it as giving the person a certain physical and spiritual strength. The knight makes his solitary vigil and prays before a great quest. The oracle or prophetess is untouched by men so that she might have a more intimate communion with the divine. Despite religious error and moral confusion; this peculiar truth about our nature and this sublimation came to light. Later, after the gift of supernatural revelation, the mystery of virginity or celibacy found its place in the religious dispensation for which it was properly made: centered on the Virgin of Nazareth, Mary, and upon her Son, Jesus Christ. All priestly celibacy and religious virginity find their exemplar in them, particularly in our Lord.

Priestly Celibacy: Making Too Much of Mind Over Matter

I have rewritten this post several times, struggling to express something that is hard to define.  Christian celibacy emphasizes mind and will over attraction, passion, instinct, etc.  But none of us exist outside of the human family and all men and women are creatures of God. Both the celibate and the atheist might place too much emphasis upon the mind. It can become a form of idolatry.

Neither an extremist celibacy that hates our biological nature nor an atheistic materialism that denies the spiritual component to our identity should be given the upper hand.  It is curious that this latter group might look down upon our physicality, giving the gravity to the mind even as we tamper to improve, manipulate or mechanically duplicate elements of our constitution.  Ours is the age of computers and robots.  But the minds of men are more than electrical brains and the body a masterpiece beyond that of any fabricated automaton.  We might suppose that the mind can do all things; that whatever we can imagine, we can make real.  And yet there is also a reductionism:  there is a scientific empiricism that impugns other types of truth and which looks upon human genius as something which might be replicated in the mechanical.

We were made for God. This is a truth of our nature. Atheists will sometimes embrace an exaggerated science as a place-holder for where God belongs. They will leap to assumptions or rally around conflicting math or parade man’s growing understanding of both the universe, large and small, or point to man’s technological breakthroughs.  Science rests upon all sorts of philosophical presuppositions. It can act as a kind of religion for those who explicitly claim no religion.  Science might overreach itself, arguing that no restraints should be placed upon what the mind can conceive, even the horrific.  Some critics warn that we are playing God.

I am reminded of the controlling “IT” in Madeleine L’Engle’s A Winkle in Time.  A warning, for sure, it portrays a dark disembodied Mind which takes over everything, exerting a powerful telepathic bondage over people. Do not get me wrong, the mind is a wondrous gift. Look at all the technology and breakthroughs that have been made possible by human genius. But we can wrongly regard the gift of the mind as if it is the giver of all gifts.  We have fashioned weapons of war that could destroy the planet and all life upon it.  Separated from will or love, the mind can be a cruel task master.

Christian celibacy is not simply the victory of the mind over the flesh. If the bestial is close to the animals, a narcissistic mental egoism is reflective of the devil. If thinking heads could be severed from their bodies so that they could devote themselves to mental deliberations unfettered by physical desires, this would not constitute an effort at perfect celibacy. True celibacy is neither the destruction of our sexual faculties nor the negation of our gender-identity. Rather, it takes all that makes us human and makes of it a sacrificial gift to God.  Men and women are human beings, not angelic ones.

The fiction that man is a mind distinct and locked in a human body can lead to a terrible separatism.  We are our bodies.  According to their natures, both angels and men must surrender and conform to God’s loving providence. If the will is poisoned by hatred or by the wrong kind of love, then the mind alone cannot straighten us out.  We would be given over to the demonic.

An emphasis upon the mind does not necessarily mean that one is good or holy.  The two components of the human soul are also found in angelic beings:  intellect and will.  But men also have physical bodies and we cannot pretend otherwise.  These bodies are liable to original sin, weakness and corruption.  They also possess certain positive abilities and attributes which must be acknowledged or integrated so that we might be holistic persons.

Priestly Celibacy: A Witness in the Scientific World

There is no intrinsic or necessary link between atheism and science. One of the most brilliant men I have ever known was the late Dr. Hank Dardy. A genius, he ranked with Steve Jobs and Bill Gates, and yet he worked for the Navy Department and gave his ideas away to others who made billions. He helped perfect HD television and there was a part of him in the guidance system of every ballistic missile in our country. There is a long list of advances made under his team in engineering, physics, and computers. Diverse in his research interests, he even assisted Spielberg in the fabrication of his virtual dinosaurs in the Jurassic Park film. And yet, this first-class mind and scientist was also known by the religious title, Deacon. He was a devout Catholic and clergyman who assisted at Mass, preached, was qualified to perform baptisms and to witness marriages. Further, while most deacons were married; Deacon Hank was celibate. His whole life was dedicated to his work for our country and for the Church. His celibacy was an important ingredient in who he was and in how he approached the world. Although worth a small fortune, he lived simply. There was his work and his prayers. He did not even have a television set, not because he did not want one, but because he watched what he wanted on the computer (which was more so than not, work related). A poverty of spirit matched up with his celibacy in a marvelous way so rarely realized in today’s world. He exemplified the value of faith, commitment and celibacy. Priests could learn a great deal from this deacon.

Priestly Celibacy: In the Face of Atheism

Atheists claim to be the ultimate integralists in that they deny the spiritual component in the human being. They have a high appreciation of the mind but define it wholly in terms of the brain which they regard as the most important organ in the human body. They are right to say that people are their bodies. They are wrong to claim that these bodies are not animated by souls. We are, in their estimation, thinking and loving meat. They propose a high or lofty estimation of man; but they demean him as entirely an animal or a biological machine. The intellectuals among them would consequently equate or compare human knowing with the ever-increasing computational power of computers. As materialists, they would likely suppose that a day will come when a technological invention will rival or surpass the human mind. Science fiction has already given us such characters in Space Odyssey’s Hal and Star Trek’s Data. The critique I would render is that to surmise such is a form of errant reductionism. We should not reduce the human mind to computation, no matter how complex. Machines like animals might mimic man and his sentience, but without the infusion of a soul by God, that is all they will ever do. We mistakenly try to close the gap by restricting the abilities of the human mind, denying its self-reflective knowledge, literally bending back unto itself— which would be impossible without the soul.

Why this apparent aside in a reflection about priestly celibacy? It is simply to acknowledge the unbelieving and even hostile environment where the priest finds himself. It comes down to a fundamental element. If there were no God and nothing of man that could survive death, then the very institution of the priesthood would be ludicrous. It would be an utter waste of time, resources and energy. Celibacy would be the tree topper on a Christmas tree voided of meaning. This touches the essential demarcation where people of faith and those without part ways. Without the gift of faith, the testimony of Scripture will not move atheistic critics. The Church has placed great confidence in reason and philosophy but not all atheists are all that reasonable. They reject logic and philosophical proofs as language games. “Show me heaven with my telescope. Reveal to me the Eucharistic change under the microscope. Where is God in a world where the innocent suffer and evil flourishes?” When it comes to a discipline like mandatory celibacy, they would argue that it is a waste of the only life a person will ever have. A priest-friend many years ago was taken in by such assertions, and by the inherent skepticism that permeated his graduate studies in anthropology. “Given that there are so many religions, how could we be certain that any are true? Would it not be easier to say that they are all equally false?” He left the ministry and got married. After an accident, he felt abandoned. He stopped believing entirely.

It occurred to me, ever since, that men seeking ordination must be totally certain of the Church’s claims. Dismissal from the seminary is no cause for lasting shame; defection from the priesthood brings with it a lasting stigma and possible scandal.  A good priest can work miracles of faith, even if he cannot clearly see the fruits.  A bad priest is a devil that can do incalculable harm to souls.  The priest will face fire from every side. Only if he is absolutely convinced of his faith and calling can he endure both the emotional assaults and the possible challenges from the various academic disciplines. He must be smart, holy and loving.  Our men must be celibate priests in a world that has stopped believing and where many believers have become practical atheists, living as if there is neither divine judgment nor resurrection.