Jesus then said to the Twelve, "Do
you also want to leave?" Simon Peter answered him, "Master, to
whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to
believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God."
John
6
Why attend Mass? Does it make sense to stop attending Mass in
response to institutional scandal?
Certainly, part of the reason many
attend Mass is to hear an educated voice interpret the Scriptures and challenge
us to live the well-lived, whole, abundant life informed by a lifetime of serious
commitment to spiritual thought and discipline. Faith that the Church is effectively
identifying and developing such voices has certainly been damaged. To be blunt, although it has done a better
job of weeding out predators among its ranks in the last decade, that is a ridiculously
low bar.
On the other hand, as I argued in my
book, Faith on a Stone Foundation, there
is much, much more going on at Mass than a lecture.
Presumably we attend Mass because we believe
it is good for us – an integral part of living the well-lived life. Presumably we attend Mass because we believe
something is done there that connects us to the divine in a way that we are humble
enough to know we can’t accomplish on our own. Spirituality and community are not
separable. In today’s Gospel the
apostles stay – not because they are commanded to, nor out of loyalty – but out
of self-interest.
What is the fundamental problem and how
can it be resolved?
The Church’s commitment to celibacy is
often cited as the root of the problem. Celibacy
among the clergy is not a command from God. Nor does it come from antiquated
notions of purity. (And, no, it’s not a ploy to keep priests from dividing up Church
property among heirs. It is, after all,
Church property.) It is one of several
disciplines almost universally observed by clergy across religions, including Hinduism,
Buddhism, Jainism, and Taoism. Historical Judaism had the Nazarite vow. Confucianism
requires celibacy while mourning. Only Protestantism and Islam have no
tradition of it. It is one of several disciplines uniformly observed those who dedicate
themselves, either temporarily or permanently, to a completely focused religious
life. It inevitably goes hand-in-hand with
a commitment to other expressions of asceticism: eating sparingly and fasting
periodically, avoiding alcohol, living as simply and gently as possible, living
communally, relying on alms, avoiding excessive engagement with the world, etc.. For thousands of years and across virtually every
culture, it has been asserted that asceticism leads to spiritual insight worth sharing.
Another virtually universally accepted
principle is that asceticism must be practiced consistently and programmatically. Only then does it have a chance to become second
nature, effortless and spontaneous. Only
then does the adherent find spiritual wisdom, and only then can he or she speak
with authority. To be celibate but eat without restraint hardly makes sense.
The root of the problem is this: the
Church has demanded adherence to some
of these as a price of admission, but they cannot be cherrypicked, and they
must be motivated by more than mere obedience. The idea that the Church must dispense with the
asceticism altogether is clearly a mistake.
The Church is addressing the symptoms of
an exceptionally serious problem. In the
long term, however, I hope the Church rededicates itself to identifying and developing
clergy who are committed to the full palette of spiritual disciplines and for
the right reasons.
