Desperately seeking seminarians
(continued)
by Dorie Clark
Ironically, in the midst of such a strong gay presence, many observers have
noted an increasingly conservative turn in the priesthood. (Jordan speculates
that this is not coincidental, for many gay men embrace conservatism as a way
of deflecting suspicion about their sexual identity.) This conservatism, in
turn, is also driving some men away from the priesthood. At a minimum, clerics
who disagree with the Vatican's official stance on such issues as homosexuality
and abortion are forced to keep silent or pay a substantial price in terms of
career prospects. Says James Carroll, a former priest and current columnist for
the Boston Globe, "You have to surrender your freedom of conscience and
your freedom of basic thought to be a Catholic priest today." Father McBrien of
Notre Dame agrees. To become a bishop, he says, priests "have to be 100 percent
for the Church's teaching on birth control, which a great majority of Catholics
don't accept, and be 100 percent against the ordination of women. What they're
looking for is loyalists."
Recent examples of the Church's crackdown on perceived unorthodoxy include last
year's US bishops' vote requiring Catholic theology professors to seek approval
for their teachings (although the mandate was significantly watered down last
week), and the October decision to remove Sister Jeannette Normandin from her
work at Boston's Jesuit Urban Center for aiding in a baptism. (The head of the
Jesuit Urban Center also removed Father George Winchester for allowing her to
participate in the sacrament.)
But many Catholics opposed these crackdowns, and some think that conservative
moves like these -- while shoring up the Church's hierarchical authority --
turn off exactly the type of independent-minded candidates the Church most
needs. Says Sister Christine Schenk of FutureChurch, a Cleveland-based group
advocating for female and married priests, "Young men do not want to be treated
like flunkies."
So what is the Church doing in the face of a diminishing clergy? The same thing
it's done for hundreds of years in times of waning power and influence:
fighting back. It's redoubling its recruitment efforts and, in the short term,
hiring more laypeople to handle religious education, music, and administration
-- duties that formerly fell to priests. It's also importing priests from
Europe and the Third World to the United States to fill gaps in clerical
manpower. Indeed, 16 percent of active parish priests in the US are
foreign-born, though statistics aren't available on what percentage moved to
this country as adult priests (as opposed to coming with their families as
children). Irish priests are the largest foreign-born contingent, followed by
clerics from India and the Philippines. The lure of American-style easy living
and the opportunity for professional advancement is appealing to many in
developing countries, priests included.
But drawing priests from overseas has serious drawbacks. For one, the shortage
of priests is even more acute outside North America. In Asia, there is one
priest per 2551 Catholics. The disproportion is even worse in Africa (one per
4483) and in South America (one per 7094). Eventually this priest-borrowing
will catch up with the Church unless it becomes much more successful at
drumming up recruits in the Third World than it is in the States. In addition,
some view it as a distasteful form of imperialism. "The developing world
already has major difficulties," says Sister Christine Schenk of FutureChurch.
"This is another example of rich countries taking advantage of poor countries."
Whether or not the practice is exploitative, some argue that, in any case, it
is less effective in reaching the American faithful. Cultural differences and
language barriers can make it difficult for foreign-born ministers to reach out
to the laity. Perhaps the biggest disconnect is theological. Says Jordan of
Emory University, "We're getting a kind of time-shift backwards as priests come
in from Poland or Central Africa. They're bringing in a Catholicism that's in
some ways 40 years old." Even if these priests aren't old, it seems their
mind-set is.
To stir up interest on the home front, the Church is mounting a good
old-fashioned marketing blitz. Last year in Providence, it aired
priest-recruiting television commercials in such secular and irreverent venues
as MTV, Comedy Central, and ESPN. In 1998, the Diocese of Milwaukee began a
recruitment billboard campaign with the tag line ENJOY THE ULTIMATE BENEFITS
PACKAGE. These marketing efforts have yielded interest, and even a few new
seminarians.
But the secret to a sustained turnaround may be one-on-one recruitment efforts.
Father Daniel Greenleaf, 34, the diocesan recruiter from Portland, was at one
time a successful accountant, with a girlfriend and a sports car. But after
visiting his high-school priest and realizing that his priorities had gone
astray, he decided to become a man of the cloth. Today, he provides a forum to
assist others going through the "discernment process" (the term for deciding if
one should join the priesthood). "It's okay if there's only one or two,"
he says. "It's really about helping people if they feel God is calling them."
With 14 men from his diocese currently in the seminary, he's had good luck, but
he recognizes that recruitment is not as easy as it was in the past. "I'm
trying to replace some of the institutions that supported the vocation, whether
it was a convent full of nuns or a school full of brothers," he says. "I'm
trying to replace that with individual contact and individual support."
But despite all these efforts, it's hard to find good candidates. "It's
difficult to measure, but everybody close to the scene agrees that the quality
[of recruits] has gone down," says Hoge of Catholic University. "It's not
intelligence or commitment to Jesus Christ that's gone down, but leadership
has." Jordan of Emory University worries that this leadership decline may
dovetail with the issue of sexual abuse. "A lot of the dioceses are desperate
to take people, even if they have qualms about them, even if they don't do well
on certain psychological tests," he says. "There's a real tension between
needing candidates and trying to prevent future abuse scandals. Some dioceses
do really well and say `We'd rather do without,' but others aren't so picky."
As a result, the Church might be forced to consider a solution it never thought
possible: opening up the priesthood. Catholic parishioners seem receptive.
The National Catholic Reporter's 1999 poll revealed that 71 percent of
the laity supported opening the priesthood to married men. They also supported
admitting both celibate women (63 percent) and married women (54 percent).
Reflecting a growing recognition of the shortage, a 1994 Los Angeles
Times poll showed that 59 percent of priests supported measures allowing
priests to marry, and 44 percent would give the nod to female clerics. And
though most remain silent on the matter, it seems that many Catholic clergymen
share those views.
Sister Christine Schenk couldn't agree more. "The whole issue of celibacy has
to be discerned apart from the call to priestly ministry," she says. If the
Church would accept married men into the ranks (as it did until the Middle
Ages), or women, she believes "there would be no priest shortage. . . . God is
a God of abundance, not of scarcity." The 30,000-plus lay ministers employed by
the Church (82 percent of whom are female) are a ready pool of recruits. A good
number of the men who left the priesthood to get married might return if given
the opportunity. Indeed, although it is not commonly known, the Catholic Church
currently does allow some priests to be married. Episcopal priests who are
married, convert to Catholicism, and wish to remain in the vocation are allowed
to stay wed "in the full sense of the term," reports Father McBrien of Notre
Dame.
Today's Catholic Church is facing an uphill battle, trying to minister to 62
million American Catholics with only 45,699 priests. Despite advertising
campaigns and focused recruitment efforts, it will be very difficult for the
Church to muster enough candidates even to replace the ones who leave. The
diminishing priesthood is wreaking havoc on a church that -- unlike its
Protestant counterparts -- strongly emphasizes the sacraments, such as last
rites and Holy Communion. "There are fewer Masses," says Professor Dean Hoge,
"and priests are less available for visiting the sick and dying, for weddings
and baptisms, and for coming to meetings around the parish." Says Father
McBrien, "To some in the Catholic Church, it's more important to maintain a
celibate priesthood than to have the Eucharist and other sacraments available
to the faithful." But without priests to perform the sacraments, less emphasis
is placed on them; with access to the priest for counseling or
community-building also reduced, this may cause Catholic church-going to become
less meaningful. And if mainstream Catholics continue to disregard the
Vatican's views on social issues, the Church may seem even less relevant to
their lives.
McBrien is convinced the day will come when the Church will accept married
priests. "It won't come under Pope John Paul II," he says, "but if for no other
reason, the pressure of reality will require the Church to relax its rules
regarding celibacy." In the meantime, the Church will continue its
uncomfortable grappling with a heavily gay clergy and human sexuality in
general, just as it copes with its occasional scuffles over theological freedom
and dissent. And Father Greenleaf of Portland and his counterparts will
continue looking for the next generation of priests -- men who, he says, "have
an amazement for life and finding the mystery, that there's something rather
than nothing."
Dorie Clark can be reached at dclark[a]phx.com.