Editorial

A Lingering Clericalism?

Michael Bradley
By | May 17, 2015

The scene plays out as if it were scripted. I will be praying after 7 a.m. Mass in the summer, or sitting on a bench outside with a rosary in hand, or otherwise be expressing my faith in some way when someone will walk past and, after a few moments of conversation, ask, “Have you ever thought about being a priest?”

Studies indicate that young men are much more likely to become seminarians if various people ask them about considering the priesthood. It’s not hard to see why. Hearing the same question, expressive the same discernment—that a young man would make a fine priest—from various persons (and personalities) might well make a man turn inward and ask himself whether he might have a calling, or at least open himself more to the call that he already inchoately is experiencing.

I wonder if the question doesn’t veil a lingering clericalism.

In many ways, I’m the beneficiary of post-Vatican II changes in the Church. I pray the Hours daily. I study theology as a layperson in an excellent program in which the majority of faculty are lay Catholics. Folks pose me the priesthood question perhaps most often upon seeing and hearing these things.

While I appreciate the question and am never annoyed with it, and while I gave very serious thought to entering the seminary during my middle college years, I do sometimes want to respond, “No, I’m not going to be a priest. Men other than priests can pray the Hours and study theology at an advanced level and attend daily Mass and live vibrantly in the bosom of the Church, all without being called to the priesthood. All Catholic men should live vibrantly within the Church, whatever their personal vocations.”

I say that the “priesthood question” expresses lingering clericalism because it can veil the judgment that holiness and prayerfulness and a desire to know the faith correlate naturally to priestly life. Of course they correlate. Priests should live like this. But not every man who lives like this should be a priest. The priesthood question jumps to an exclusive association between holiness and altar, between prayerfulness and vestments.

The priesthood question expresses low standards of expectation for the same reason: The questioner has a difficult time understanding that one can have a strong desire to live a deeply Catholic life without feeling drawn to the priesthood. When I’ve been asked the priesthood question, and responded that I’m actually in a relationship, I’ve been asked (even by priests) “Why do you pray the Hours, then?” This question may simply be a matter of curiosity, but my impression is that it can, and has, not infrequently, masked the thought that liturgical prayer means holiness and holiness means religious or consecrated life.

The priesthood question is a distant cousin of the “marriage question”: The smuggled assumption that marriageable men should marry. It’s a judgment that—unless you become a priest—marriage is the only practically worthwhile way to live one’s life as a Catholic and that deep companionship is unavailable outside of marital community. We say of single persons we’d like to see fulfilled that “we just wish they could find someone.”

Where priestly life is concerned, the marriage question smuggles the judgment that “it would be a shame” for a man to become a priest if he is any of the following things: handsome, charismatic, gracious with women, deeply talented, articulate, friendly, and so on. Sometimes the same man regularly is asked both questions, from different people with different views of the Church.

The marriage question and the priesthood question both can express a failure to grasp the deep richness of personal vocation. By no means should we stop encouraging young men to consider that God may be calling them to the priesthood. But we can’t encourage them to do so because we think the priesthood, or them, holier. We shouldn’t stop journeying with single friends who desire marriage. But we should encourage their discernment in ways that don’t effectively treat life-without-a-spouse to be a second-rate option.

I’m still asked the priesthood question, and probably will be until my left hand carries a band. When I’m no longer asked it, I’ll continue to ask other young, devoted Catholic men, though differently, about their callings. Most of them are not called to the priesthood. But they are called to holiness, and are striving to live it. May their numbers increase.

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  • Fr. Joshua Kibler

    I’m confused. I could understand it if the question posed to someone praying the breviary *assumed* he was a priest or a seminarian, but the questioner seems to me to be identifying traits she’d like to see in a priest, not a state she’d like to see the man in. Unless you’re thinking to impose quotas on church ladies, with the result that they should be asking the impious and the married to consider the priesthood as frequently as they ask the prayerful and unmarried man, I don’t really see the justice of this indictment.

  • Timothy Kirchoff

    I for one would have no problem with church ladies engaging in the evangelization of the impious (neither St. Paul nor St. Augustine seemed to show much potential for the apostolate early in life) or nudging married men toward considering the permanent diaconate.

    It is probably safe to assume in this day and age that any young man who regularly attends church on weekdays or prays the rosary or the liturgy of the hours has also considered the possibility of the priesthood. It’s a bit like asking someone who spends their spare time watching C-SPAN whether they’ve thought about working in government, or someone reading the business section of the paper whether they’ve thought about investing in the stock market.

  • Paul Leddy

    I share Michael’s experience, even to the point where I believed that if I am living “vibrantly in the church” then I must have a vocation to the priesthood or religious life. I was discouraged as much as I was encouraged by clerics to continue my vibrant prayer life; I was either scoffed at our made to feel I was treading where I had no right to be. Friends and strangers made me feel I was putting on air’s.
    As a result, I’ve withdrawn to continue my vibrant life privately. I’ve grown dispassionate in daily Mass, and no longer go to a priest for confession
    I suppose it is a compromise I’ve made to live my vocation more deeply and luminously.

  • Tommy O’D

    Paul, I hope that you mean you’ve stopped going to a *certain* priest for confession … please don’t let the judgmental assumptions of others lead you away from God’s grace in the sacrament of reconciliation.

  • Paul Leddy

    What I said is what I meant.

  • NDaniels

    Michael, it is important to note that a good priest, is a man who desires to be a good son, and a good brother, and if he had married, would have desired to be a good husband and father.
    We are all called to Holiness even though we are not all called to the priesthood. May the number of good priests and good fathers increase, and may they never be afraid to defend The Faith.

  • Thomas Storck

    “The priesthood question is a distant cousin of the “marriage question”: The smuggled assumption that marriageable men should marry.
    It’s a judgment that—unless you become a priest—marriage is the only
    practically worthwhile way to live one’s life as a Catholic and that
    deep companionship is unavailable outside of marital community.”

    At the risk of offending people, I’ll suggest that the best way to serve the common good is usually, not always of course, either marriage or the religious life or priesthood (for men). It’s not a question of whether someone can be fulfilled without marriage, but of how best to promote the common good of Church and society.