At the reception following my
ordination to the diaconate in Massachusetts, an older, long-time friend asked
me respectfully, "What do I call you now?" I was stunned! A day or so later I
returned to the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, where I had been living and
teaching in the Choir School. One of the younger canons actually invited me
into his office to chat informally; nothing like that had ever happened before.
Months later at the late Christmas Eve Eucharist, I carried the Bishop's heavy
cross in the nearly quarter of a mile procession. The next morning, suitcase in
hand, I was leaving the cathedral grounds for Ft. Lauderdale when I crossed
paths with the Bishop of New York, vested magnificently for the Christmas Day
Service. "Richard," he said disdainfully, "that's a heavy cross you're
carrying." Ouch! It had not crossed my mind that the Bishop would take offense
at my preference to be with my parents in Fort Lauderdale on Christmas instead
of again carrying his cross. (I was not even scheduled to be at that
Service!) In a church I served before Christ Church Cathedral, it had become
customary at every spring picnic for the teenagers to throw me in the lake or a
pool; it was expected, and I was dressed for the occasion. One couple, new to
the congregation, reprimanded me for my undignified behavior. This was the same
couple who scolded me for not being more accessible, even though I had made
several emergency pastoral calls to their home 20 miles away, one visit on the
very day my father had died. Worse yet, according to them, I was not visible
enough, evidenced by not marching in an annual town parade!
Do you detect a common theme
running through these anecdotes? Each implies that somehow I had become
different when I was ordained. Ordained, I should be addressed differently by a
long term, older friend. Sad! Ordained, I had suddenly become eligible to chat
with a canon. Ironic! Ordained, I should prefer to carry the Bishop's cross
again than be with my family. Pathetic! Ordained, I lacked solemnity at
picnics. Grim! Ordained, I was not everywhere all the time. Unreasonable!
How did we ever reach the
strange "doctrine" of expecting ordained women and men to be like the movie
priests portrayed by Bing Crosby, Barry Fitzgerald, and Pat O'Brien?! They had
no identity or life other than being their versions of the priesthood.
Regrettably, for centuries many clergy as well as lay persons have admired
these types as exemplary.
"From all blindness of heart:
from pride, vainglory….; from all false doctrine..; Good Lord, deliver
us."
I'm reminded of
the professor who furnished her office comfortably, so she could be available
from early morning through the evening and on weekends whenever the building
was unlocked. She was complimented regularly by many colleagues and students
who admired her "dedication." Actually, she desperately needed to be
needed, and she developed a following of unwell students making little or no
progress toward their own maturity. Teacher and students unknowingly needed
each other to stay just the way they were, in order to maintain their
codependent relationship. The professor's own neglected family utterly
disintegrated, and she retired early, exhausted and empty.
"That it may please thee to
inspire us, in our several callings, to do the work which thou givest us to do
with singleness of heart as thy servants ... That it may please thee to forgive
us all our ...negligences, and ignorances...We beseech thee to hear us, good
Lord."
A Roman
Catholic, Dominican priest, has alerted us to codependency in ministry in his
report "The Addicted/Dependent Minister," first published during 1989 in a
Jesuit journal. Two years later other authors produced a book entitled Toxic
Faith: Understanding and Overcoming Religious Addiction; this study was
published for the benefit of ordained and lay people.1 Moreover, just last year our Presiding Bishop leading
meditations for clergy in this cathedral exhorted us to take better care of the
quality of our lives, so that our physical, mental and spiritual well-being is
well attended to. Notice, if you will, that these indictments of images and
lives of clergy and layfolk are coming from within the Church, not by secular
critics with an ax to grind. You and I are duly warned that many of the
traditional expectations of clergy and laity are unhealthy. In particular,
ordained people (along with teachers, doctors, and others) can become too
dependent upon individuals needing them. For some, the only time life seems
fulfilling is when they are supposedly helping someone in need, situations in
which they are acting out their exaggerated sense of responsibility.
They gather sub-flocks who remain chronically desperate for someone to lean on.
The priest becomes dependent on individuals needing endless support, and the
same individuals grow dependent on the priest's constant availability - with no
movement toward healing. Underneath it all, priest and layperson are mutually
dependent and need to remain just the way they are- They are sadly addicted to
an unhealthy process. Reinforcing the disorder are well-intended individuals
who praise the clergy's limitless dedication, in the name of Bing, Barry, and
Pat! A contemporary, less respectful, insensitive film might urge such priests,
teachers, doctors, students, and laypeople to "get a life."
"That it may please thee to illumine all
bishops; priests, and deacons, with true knowledge and understanding of thy
Word; and that both by their preaching and living, they may set it forth, and
show it accordingly, We beseech thee to hear us, good Lord."
In today's Gospel we hear of
John the Baptist as having a divine mission to bear witness to Jesus as the
Messiah. His witness included a negative factor: who he was NOT! John
emphatically said that he himself was not the Messiah, not Elijah, and not "the
prophet" referred to in Deuteronomy. He disclosed that he was only a voice, a
pointer, preparing the way for Christ to come. John the Baptist serves as an
exemplary model of ministry for ordained and lay people. John is not the
Messiah, God's Incarnate Word, and neither are you or I. We share a ministry
that includes pointing to Christ, a ministry bearing witness to Him. Our
ministry is not to point to each other or to ourselves as the central,
limitless source of messianic power, responsibility, wholeness, and grace.
Rather, we are among the witnessing neighbors commanded to love each other as
well as our selves. Such self-regard involves a wholesome interdependence, not
ongoing, parasitic codependence.
My answer to the older friend
asking what he should call me after my ordination was "Richard" (or an informal
substitute) - the name given to me at my Baptism, the sacramental event
providing me with my identity and calling me to the Christian ministry we all
share. I do value the lengthy education that preceded ordination. I honor
profoundly the Spirit and words that ordained me for particular service, and I
accept valid leadership responsibilities of ordained women and men. However, at
my best I am a pointer, an ordinary witness, with John the Baptist and all of
you, to God's Coming Word, Jesus Christ Our Lord. Amen.
1Both are available, the
latter in summary form, on this website within the “Constructive
Criticisms……” subsite.