1. Rector’s Conference Three 
    October 7, 2018
    Very Rev. Denis Robinson, OSB

    I want to talk to you this evening as though you were priests already. Certainly, I understand that you are not. I know that some of you may not be destined for priestly service, but as you also know, one of my points of emphasis is that here you must be set on preparing to be a priest, not merely on four years of discernment.
    In the Ratio Fundamentalis, the document produced by the Congregation for the Clergy in Rome to oversee seminary formation, the ideal of priestly formation is the ideal that what we call theology is not a time of discernment; it is a time of preparation. Theologians should not be in an active discernment mode; you should be preparing to be priests. So, I will speak to all of you as priests, as men destined for service in the Church, as mature men, as men who only (ONLY) have the needs of the Church in your minds and hearts.
    This evening, then, I want to look momentarily at a passage of St. Matthew’s Gospel, chapter 19:
    But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.
    Jesus said, let children come to me.
    Jesus said, do not hinder the natural attraction that children have for the reality of God.
    Jesus said, the realization of the Kingdom of God is dependent upon our care for children.
    Interesting and troubling.
    Our current dystopian narrative – one in which we are called increasingly to NOT believe that people have rights, that people have value, that people have responsibilities – in our current climate, the human quality of childhood has been called into question. We have watched countless films, read books and looked at stories about children who commit crimes, and are otherwise seen as perpetrators of violence on others. I think the most dangerous expression of this is the Supreme Court decision of Roe v. Wade, a decision that gave free reign to a culture to kill children in order to promote the freedom of the parents.
    Given this, why the focus on the Catholic Church? Why are we given so much press when other Christian groups and other religious institutions share in the guilt in failing to look after children properly, of ignoring the words of Jesus?
    But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.
    To me the answer is simple: We are supposed to stand for something greater. We are supposed to be exemplars of what it means to live in a healthy world, a healthy culture, a healthy Church. We are supposed to be better and, when we fail, our failure looks all the more dramatic. Our failure also looks dramatic when we fail and will not admit that we have failed. If we know that children have been hurt in our churches, by members of our clergy, if we know that and do not call those people to justice, the failure is all the greater.
    How can we have a Church that stands for the goodness and peace of Christ, the same Christ who said: Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven? When we fail in that, our fall is mighty. When people find out that we, who claim to stand up for Christ and his world and his righteousness, fail to protect the most vulnerable and lie to protect a corrupt institutional structure, we have failed mightily.
    What are we supposed to stand for? My brothers, we are supposed to stand for integrity. We are supposed to stand for justice; we are supposed to stand for Truth, the Truth that is Jesus Christ. And if we are going to stand for integrity and justice and Truth, then we must be, first and foremost in our world today, men of healing. So I say: aim your formational goals in this direction. Become men of healing.
    The priest is called to healing or service leadership and cultic leadership; healing leadership for the sake of cultic leadership. The priest leads by confecting the Eucharist in the exercise of his unique power. The Eucharist makes the Church and thus is the full manifestation of the new condition of humanity. The Eucharist is the source of human success in its striving to touch the transcendent, to grasp the things of heaven in a way the Icarian pretense of human pride could not.
    If the priest is set apart in Holy Orders from all the others who have been set apart in Baptism, his status is for healing and service in the cultic action of the constitutive Eucharist. Like Joshua, the priest fights against the citadels of the compromised expectations of our condition and opens the gates of grace, not for his own sense of victory, but to feed a hungry people left to wander the desert. The priest has a dignity that is manifested in his willingness to fight for the people, even as Joshua railed against the walls of Jericho, even as Christ fought, all the way to Calvary.
    The priest has a dignity that is bound up with the fate of the people. The priest has a dignity that is directed always over the shoulder to encourage a people moving forward freed from the burdens of the earth. The priest has a dignity that is not his own, a dignity that rightly belongs to Christ. The priest has a dignity that is always emptying itself like the breast blood of the pelican to give life to others. The priest has a dignity rooted in sacrifice. The priest has a dignity that bridges the fully human and the fully divine.
    The priest has a dignity that carries the people on his shoulders so that they can have a better look at that rich valley, that Promised Land, that God has called us to in calling us his sons and daughters, brothers and sisters in our dear Lord, Jesus Christ. The priest has a dignity that serves as a living icon of that dignity to which we are all called. The priest has a dignity that is not his own. The priest is not his own. The priest is for God and the priest is for us. Yet, in some places, that dignity has been ruined.
    When we examine the condition of the holy priesthood today, we must say that in its character, in its essence, there is no compromise to the priesthood. The priesthood today is what Christ realized it to be in the institution of the sacrament of Holy Orders on the night he was betrayed. The priesthood, in essence, is what it is and its inherent dignity is complete and inviolate. But in our time of trouble, the perception of the dignity of the priest is another story.
    The essence of the priesthood is safeguarded by the matter and form of the sacrament and the assurances of apostolic succession. The perception of that dignity, however, is undoubtedly compromised. What, or perhaps who, has compromised the perception of the dignity of the priesthood? It is true that this perception has been assailed in the pretensions of an overweening, media-saturated culture. But let us not place the blame completely out there. The loss of respect experienced by the priesthood is not only the product of persecution; it is the product of our own folly.
    What compromises the dignity of the priesthood? First, I would say a lack of personal character on the part of priests. All of us are the products of our environment. Many of us have been raised in a highly commercialized culture in which we were told that we can have everything. We cannot. The character of the priest is dependent upon his ability to understand his nature, his function, and his place in the social and ecclesial order. The character of the priest is compromised when he tries to have his cake and eat it, too. It is compromised when he remains with one foot in the world of the so-called “secular” and another in the sacred.
    It is compromised when it fails to reach its true potential in Christ because the priest is engaged in other activities that begin to take precedence over his life of prayer and service. The character of the priest is compromised when he fails to accept completely who he is, when he tries to hold on to that which is not priesthood. It is compromised when he tries to live an ontological lie, when he brackets in any way his essence for the convenience or pleasures inherent in not bearing the heavy responsibilities of the priesthood.
    Let me give some more concrete examples. The priest is compromised when he is lazy. Laziness is a trait that has to be overcome in a serious way because we live in a culture of leisure. It is a false leisure. All of us have the necessity, I would say the responsibility, to recreate in the truest sense of the word. That is not the question.
    Laziness is doing what I need to do to get by and nothing more. It is fulfilling obligations at the bare minimum in order to do what I want to do. The lazy priest rushes from Mass in order to catch the game or his show. The lazy priest abandons the confessional to do something fun. The work ethic in our culture has been severely compromised by the cult of leisure. We work not to fulfill a mission, but to have the resources to spend on having fun. Laziness eventually overwhelms the priest, making him a mere functionary.
    God can use the mere functionary character of his priesthood, but at what price to his own dignity and at what cost to his reputation? The lazy priest makes excuses not to go to the hospital, the nursing home, not to make communion calls. He “says” Mass. He gets homilies off the internet. He gives lip service to his responsibilities so he can do what he wants. The lazy priest is no leader. Neither is he a follower. He is a lounger and thus compromises the dignity of which he is possessed. The lazy priest holds the treasure of his priesthood in a reclining chair. Then he wonders why no one shows him the proper deference due his office. After all, he has sacrificed so much to be a priest.
    The perception of the dignity of the priest is compromised also by crudeness. This can take several forms. One is poor hygiene and poor grooming. The priest looks slovenly and then protests that his appearance is the result of a commitment to evangelical poverty. This is nonsense. While we may reject the Wesleyan axiom that cleanliness is next to godliness, cleanliness is respectful. I show respect for the people I meet by appearing clean-shaven and not reeking of body odor.
    Crudeness can also take the form of impropriety of speech. The use of crude and shocking language as a matter of course is not prophetic; it is ignorant. It demonstrates a lack of humanity, particularly when it is directed to a sexually exploitative purpose. No one can take the celibate commitment of a priest seriously when he is continually using foul language about women and telling off-color jokes. Refinement of speech is not un-manly; it is human.
    Another form of crudeness is a lack of manliness. That may sound somewhat contradictory but I would say that true manliness, as expressed in the priesthood is something we might find ourselves lacking. What is manliness? I think it is the ability to truly be a man, to be strong, to be forthright, to be Truthful but also to show emotion, to commiserate with others, to truly and authentically love others. Manliness is compromised by false senses of the masculine, usually lived out in little boudoirs of the masculine ideal, the drinking of cocktails and idle speculation on the sexual identity of others in the community. Those who hold secret conclaves to debate others’ sexual identity are not men, they are voyeurs. My Great Aunt Pearl had more manliness in her patent leather pocketbook that those men who spend their lives obsessing about the sexual identity of other men. Such scandalous calumnies have no place in religious life. Those that spread them have no place in priestly life, because their character does not exhibit manliness, a healthy appropriation of which is necessary for priestly life. 
    Another means of compromising the inherent dignity of the priesthood is the expression of an anti-intellectual bias. We wonder, even aloud, about the necessity of the study that we undertake here for our future pastoral engagements. I say, if you do not take your studies seriously, even if you are not the best student, if you do not take seriously the need to know the teachings of the Church and the Tradition, I hope to God you never have any parishioners to inflect your ignorant and unformulated opinions upon.
    The damage wrought by the material heresy of what they claim as well-meaning, anti-intellectual priests is real and devastating to the fabric of the Body of Christ. The cavalier attitude that some priests take toward doctrine is not only shocking; it is sinful. As priests, we bear a tremendous responsibility for the orthodoxy of the Christian people, and that orthodoxy cannot be of our own construction. It must be forged and forged hard at the anvil of the Church’s intellectual life, a life to which all of us, no matter our native talents, have access.
    One manifestation of this anti-intellectual attitude is cultural narrowness. A cultural perspective that is woven together only from distended threads of popular music, the internet, social networking, electronic games, commercial television, etc. is not likely to weave a tapestry of inspiration. A cultural bias that is earthbound is not going to offer us the opportunities for cultivating such practicalities as a celibate life or a literate imagination for preaching and teaching.
    It is commonplace in our society to disdain higher culture. We scoff at those who care about art, music, literature and theater. We laugh at the pretensions of those who seek the things that are above. And yet, it is these things that have the potential to unite us as a people by appealing to our better selves, whereas the manifestations of a low fanciful culture merely reinforce the self-gratification and selfishness that tear at the fiber of the Body of Christ.
    The dignity of the priesthood is compromised by too close an identification with popular culture. We think that “being in touch” with the world is inspirational to our youth. I would suggest that familiarity breeds contempt and that young people are more often inspired by alternatives to the dead-end culture that surrounds them.
    Another means by which the perception of the dignity of the priesthood is jeopardized is a lack of engagement with the spiritual life. An old adage in the world of formation is that after ordination, the prayer life is the first thing to go. Outside the structures of seminary life, the priest simply cannot find the time or the energy to pray. We make excuses for neglecting the breviary and the holy hour. We live into falsehoods such as: “my work is my prayer.” We discover, all of a sudden, that we are burnt out and the pastoral life has little meaning.
    Why should it if we have discarded the essential relationship with God expressed in prayer that gives meaning to our pastoral engagement? We fool ourselves if we do not think prayer is the key to priestly life and service. We fool ourselves here if we are not convinced that a dedication to prayer is the most important thing for me to do. We fool ourselves if we believe that people do not know when we no longer pray, when our spiritual life is not only dry, but dead. We compromise the dignity of the priesthood when we continue to present ourselves as that bridge between heaven and earth and fail to acknowledge that the bond has been broken by our lack of prayer.
    Finally, I would like to mention the sin that is rank clericalism. I use this expression “rank clericalism” intentionally. An authentic clerical spirit recognizes the uniqueness of the vocation and accepts the responsibility that that uniqueness necessitates. Rank clericalism claims privilege without responsibility. Rank clericalism is more about the dress than the service. Rank clericalism insists upon respect without offering. Rank clericalism is all about the look of the thing and nothing about the substance of the thing. Rank clericalism legislates according to tastes. Rank clericalism exercises power without consultation. This kind of clericalism destroys perceptions of the dignity of the priesthood by being all about me.
    But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.
    As priests, we cannot be the instruments of hindering others’ relationship with God. We are in need of that healing. We will become accustomed to that healing when we start thinking as men of God and stop thinking as men solely concerned with self. This is for our good and the good of our Church in troubled times. So I speak to you as though you are already priests: Know what the holy priesthood is and live it. Live it now.

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  2. Friday of the Twenty-sixth Week of Ordinary Times
    Sunday, October 7, 2018
    Very Rev. Denis Robinson, OSB

    Therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate.
    I’ll bet the disciples eyes popped out of their heads. Not because Jesus was fighting the Pharisees, they were used to that. Not because Jesus was restating some of their traditional teachings, that too was old stuff. I’ll bet their eyes were popping out of their heads because, really for the first time, Jesus is insisting that the behavior of his disciples, his disciples actions, they must be more strict, even holier than the teachings of the Pharisees. The Pharisees were this stuck-up, holier than thou little group who snubbed their noses at Jesus’ ragtag followers. EWW! The Pharisees were like the mean girls in Jesus’ high school for discipleship. They had it all, they knew it all and nobody, NOBODY really measured up to their expectations, their high values and their ways of doing things. But throughout his ministry, Jesus has certainly given them the old eschatological one-two. Their rules were antiquated. They were old maid aunts, whose ways of the world were outdated. They were hypocrites, tellers but not doers of the Law. They put others down while posting themselves on a pedestal. And the disciples loved Jesus little digs, his jibes. The folks who followed Jesus had no desire to be a part of the Pharisees world, it was too elitist and too uppity, and besides, it was too hard, at least if you followed the rules.
    Except now. The Pharisees interpretation of the marriage Law seemed fine, until Jesus puts his nose in it.
    Therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate.
    One wife, no divorce, no out, no escape clause, no prenup. Keep your spouse, remain together for life, be a part of each other through whatever thick or thin one can conceivably imagine. It is all too much, all to taxing. For once, Jesus is more strict than the Pharisees and that is, a bit, troubling.
    What about us? Well, first of all, I would say this is a hard passage to preach in our chapel here. By taking the short version of the Gospel this morning, we leave behind the little children quote from the longer version. All we have is the marriage conundrum and for us, marriage means weddings, persnickety brides, their more persnickety mothers, drunken groomsmen, drunken bridesmaids, all decked out in pastel colors and rented tuxes whose sole purpose in life is to make the priest miserable. Weddings are awful and trying to keep some semblance of holiness in a sacrament where people may not care all that much is challenging.
    We know how the Church understands marriage. We know how the Church understands this passage:
    Therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate.
    But we also know the statistics. We know that Catholic incidence of divorce and remarriage is just as high as that of say, atheists. We know that our Church tribunals are overflowing with cases of folks who believe this stellar law of God’s providential love for humanity never applied in their situation. They did not have proper assent. They were compromised in some way. And sometimes that is true. A great deal of your priesthood is going to be spent explaining the Church’s understanding of the sanctity of marriage and getting people into marriage, and another big chunk of it is going to be spent helping them get out of marriages they feel were untenable for them from the start. Too harsh? I don’t think so. What I’m saying is that the message of Jesus is as hard for us to hear as it was for those earlier disciples. Like them we must be murmuring to ourselves, “Are you nuts, Mr. Messiah?” or chuckling to ourselves, “You, Mr. Jesus, just don’t understand how things work in the wicked old world.”
    Therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate.
    I wonder though, I wonder if Jesus hard message may have found some resonance not only in his time but in ours as well. Jesus’ laxity with the disciples over certain rules of faith, following the Sabbath ideals, pots and pans, whatever, Jesus’ relaxation of certain of the truly ancient rules of the Law, and his strictness in other areas, may have been setting them up for something. Maybe Jesus is saying: You, my dear disciples are now entering a different world, a world in which adulterers are forgiven and tax-collectors are welcomed into your home. Here is a new world where everyone sits down at the table together, in which old faults are put aside and forgiven. In which the dirty and the lame become clean and walk. In which lepers leap and the blind become visionaries. Here is a new world in which folks are raised from the dead, God is crucified, people speak in different languages at the drop of a hat. And how is this possible? It is possible because in Christ, God has joined something together. God has joined himself to the human condition. God has touched our weakness with his glory. God has invested himself forthright in the human problem. God has come among us as a weak and helpless baby, born to poor people, a barefoot man who traverses the highways of the human condition. God has come among us not afraid of weakness but reveling in weakness, saturated in weakness, because he loves us so much, he wanted to feel what we feel, suffer what we suffer, and he did, pain and hunger and thirst and life and joy and laughter and death. Yes, even death on a cross. God did that, and God is doing that because he wanted to be joined to us and so I say:
    Therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate.
    So often and for so long in the Church we have wrestled with the idea that marriage is something inferior, that marriage is for those who cannot take the rigors of a manly celibacy, whatever that means. Marriage is for the masses while saying Masses are for the elite. Well, that is BS (which stands for baloney and silliness). Marriage is our stamp on immortality. Marriage is the sacrament of God’s consecration with us. Marriage is the everlasting sign of God’s commitment to us. Marriage is held sacred because we must find a way to conform our lives, our celibate lives, to God’s ideal in marriage.
    Therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate.
    We must look to the struggles of the married couple to find meaning for our struggles. We must look to the heartache which husbands and wives endure to comprehend our pain. We must see in the joys of being parents, and the trials of being parents, a pattern for our spiritual fatherhood. We don’t have a more exalted vocation than married couples. I would say we are the same, both consecrated by Christ, in his image, in his likeness, in his intimate bond with the Father. Of course, I have never been a biological father, but I do know what I believe to be the essence of both their vocation and my vocation, a desire to suffer with you, to comfort you in your pain, to understand, to challenge and encourage. That vocation too comes from God. Our bond comes from God. Our ingathering here comes from God, and I say this:
    Therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate.
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  3. Overseers Presentation
    October 5, 2018
    Very Rev. Denis Robinson, OSB

    As all of you “old hands” know, this is usually the time I take each year to go over the numbers. This is the part where I smile and tell you how wonderful things are, how the new seminarians and graduate students are adjusting to the life of the community, how many new deacon programs we are starting and all of that.
    I am not going to do that sort of thing this year. You have your folders and you have the reports of each division. In my estimation, for an institution such as ours, it is vitally important for us to address head-on the elephant in the room; that is the current abuse crisis that is threatening the Church. I was shocked a few weeks ago when a story came out about an archbishop speaking to a group of seminarians who stated that “we have a bigger agenda than to be distracted by all of this.”
    I don’t know if the quote is accurate. I don’t know if it is taken out of context. I do know that it seems to be somewhat “tone deaf” in a Church where people are hurting and leaving, in a Church where people are confused and doubtful. If would also seem to be a very irresponsible thing to say to a group of seminarians, men who are struggling to support and remain faithful to a Church where some leaders, certainly not all, seem to care very little for that Church’s reputation.
    What is the current situation we are facing? How is it different from what we have already seen? The “spotlight” was first turned significantly on the Church in 2002. At that time, dioceses and religious communities were struggling as various stories came forth about abuse situations, most involving priests and many, if not most, involving minors, both male and female. This was a difficult time for the Church.
    In terms of study, the bishops commissioned what is today referred to as the John Jay Report.  Produced by the John Jay School of Criminal Studies, the report found that during a period of 52 years, from 1950 to 2002, over 10,000 persons had made allegations of child sexual abuse. (Remember that this was the focus in 2002.) These accusations affected about 2 percent of the clergy in the United States. Of the accused, however, very few (about 6 percent) were convicted.
    Looking at a timeline, it was discovered that the number of allegations increased in the 1960s, peaked in the 1970s, declined in the ’80s and settled in the 1990s. As it was designed, the report offers many statistics, some of which may be accurate today, some of which may be called into question today. The study goes on to offer some profile of the abuse scenarios. It found that, “Like in the general population, child sex abuse in the Catholic Church appears to be committed by men close to the children they allegedly abuse.” And, “many (abusers) appear to use grooming tactics to entice children into complying with the abuse, and the abuse occurs in the home of the alleged abuser or victim.”
    The study characterized these enticements as actions such as buying the minor gifts, letting the victim drive a car and taking youths to sporting events. The most frequent context for abuse was a social event, and many priests socialized with the families of victims. Abuses occurred in a variety of places, with the most common being the residence of the priest. When looking at victims, 81% were male, 22% were younger than age 10. The kinds of abuse ranged from inappropriate touching to penetration.
    Concomitant to the Jay Report, the USCCB bishops produced the Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People. This document is often referred to as the “Dallas Charter.” The focus of the Charter was the provision of a safe environment for young people in the life of the Church. The bishops adopted, at this time, a series of uniform procedures relating to accusations of misconduct among priests. This policy has been known as the “zero tolerance” policy, and it necessitates the removal of a priest from active ministry if he is accused of misconduct until an investigation can be undertaken. At the time, a handful of bishops objected that the rules were too strict, saying that in some cases of a single violation long ago, a priest should have an opportunity to serve in ministry.  The results of this scenario were played out again in the Evansville papers a few weeks ago.
    The outcome of the Dallas Charter for seminaries was the necessity of detaining a dismissed seminarian from entering another seminary for a period of time. I have spent a great deal of energy through the years fighting seminaries that chose purposefully not to follow these rules. Others have criticized the Charter because it does not deal specifically with the consequences for bishops who are accused. Bishops are the overseers of the process and thereby do not fall under the particular outcomes envisioned for the priests. Some have claimed, and indeed are now claiming more vocally, that this is unfair. If a bishop is accused, they say, he must step down until his name is cleared. Another area not dealt with adequately in previous policies is the consequence of covering up allegations. This is an area where the bishops are under particular scrutiny today.
    How have these issues been addressed and what is the condition of the Church, now, 16 years after the 2002 scandal? First of all, dioceses, as far as they have been able, have followed the Charter in letter, if not always in spirit. Most dioceses have put programs in place, have dealt with the crisis in a forthright manner and are currently participating in significant ways. For the most part.
    There are, however, dioceses that continue to operate on the “internal” business model, holding onto records, knowing things that they hope do not come out, etc. Bishops, whose personal failures in this regard are not dealt with in the Charter, have used the “out” given them to “fight” allegations made against them, which were not available to similarly accused priests. Likewise, civil authorities’ responses to abuse allegations have been uneven, sometimes, even winking at the Charter. Catholics in the pews, for the most part following the 2002 crisis, have remained faithful to the Church. Today, however, I believe many young people, some of whom are already holding on to Church observance by a thread, may be propelled over the edge to leave the Church. I fear it may be the case.
    What about our priests? Going back to the statistics, only a handful of the clergy are directly involved in these allegations and many of them from times in the distant past. That does not change, however, how people are thinking about priests today. We know that in years past, being a priest, becoming a priest, was the greatest vocation a young man could aspire to. Today, I would say it is largely a battle. I can also say this, however, judging by the seminarians at Saint Meinrad. These men are courageous, intelligent, faithful and devout men. It is my concern that they understand, unflinchingly, the situation in the Church today and move forward, healing and caring for a wounded people.
    How should this be accomplished? I return now to the situation the Church faced in 2002. The problem existed, or so we were told at the time, with priests. This was both true and not true. Certainly, the spotlight was on priests in this scenario, but bishops were also responsible. In fact, in the aftermath of the scenario, several bishops were removed at that time. I think of the dioceses of Lexington and Knoxville.  It is true that priests were basically involved and so, in its wisdom, the Vatican decided to embark upon a visitation of seminaries.
    It seemed like a logical move. It asked important questions such as: Were there deficiencies in seminary formation? Were there problems with the screening process? There was a great deal of energy expended at that time on examining seminaries. We here at Saint Meinrad, likewise, underwent an investigation. Nothing was found. Some adjustments were made here, including the necessity of teaching Latin, some staffing changes, but overall very little. In recent weeks, there has been some call on the part of some “commentators” in the Church to visit seminaries again.
    Let me say this outright. Saint Meinrad and other seminaries that follow the guidelines and are attempting to do things according to plan, and furthermore to do them creatively, are not the problem. I would add, however, that there are some seminaries that are not following the plan and are not submitting themselves to the guidelines of the USCCB and the Vatican. Some of these seminaries do not believe, for example, that psychological testing is important. Some do not believe that they are required to follow the guidelines by consulting other seminaries a student has attended when matriculating into a new seminary. These lax seminaries are problematic, but they do not indicate that the Church’s current challenges are seminary based.
    In the aftermath of seminary visitations, what were we told? We were told that we needed to clamp down on “outside” influences in seminary life. The seminary should be a refined, cocoon-like environment, a hothouse of formation. We should not allow women to be overly influential in seminary formation.  We should not allow lay people to be too prominent in formation. We should have only priests doing this or that. I think that is humorous, since the very bishops who have called for an “all priest” environment seem quite unwilling to offer priests either for graduate studies or for work in the seminary. We tried to balance our structures to accommodate these requirements and these perceived values.
    Now we are told that we need more lay people around. Cardinal Ouliette says we need more women around. The Congregation for the Clergy encourages bishops to provide more priests for seminary work. What are we to do? Are we to respond to this new request, knowing that in a few years the ideological tide may turn again and we will go back to a highly clerical environment? It is difficult to navigate the Scylla and Charybdis of this issue. Seminaries are told: Provide us with the very best, but, of course, we don’t want to pay for it.
    There are other problems as well. There are problems in our dioceses. Dioceses are struggling today with many issues that we have rehearsed in this group before. Dioceses are almost universally dealing with parish restructuring, with a perceived clergy shortage, with growing cultural diversity, with an, at times, antiquated school system, with generational problems, to name just a few. Dioceses, however, are also dealing with a clericalized culture that is highly problematic in the current climate. I would say that many priests in many places know many things that they have never spoken about, and not just those things they have heard in the privileged context of confession. Priests know things, but they don’t talk.
    Likewise, religious communities, many of which are struggling to stay afloat with dwindling numbers and resources. Many communities of men and women are in shutdown mode. This is the reality. One thing we do know is that the Church can no longer rely upon the authentic witness of religious sisters, brothers and priests to provide good role models at the level they once did. The ethos of the various religious charisms is being lost in the Church today, at least as a regular contributor. I would add to this that the ethos of the diocesan priest is one still being debated and ironed out.
    What about the bishops themselves? Here is what I know from personal experience. Our bishops, for the most part, like our priests, are good men. They are holy men. They are learned men. They are good pastors. They come from hardy priestly stock. I would say that they are also suffering men. They are men who find themselves in dioceses, having been cut off from familial and presbyteral support systems that they relied on in their lives as pastors, lonely and sometimes faltering. We seldom think about how we can support our bishops as people, as struggling men with real needs. Our bishops, who wanted nothing more when they were ordained than to serve God’s people at the altar, in the hospital, in the confessional, now find themselves inundated with spreadsheets, lawsuits, and anger from almost every corner. They have no peers in dioceses (for the most part) and their peers in other dioceses are also completely inundated with crisis and hardship. I can tell you this: I love our bishops and I pray for them, each of them by name every day. Is that to say I don’t recognize it if they make mistakes? Not at all, because of their place in the Church, they must be held even more accountable. They are bishops, but they are also men.
    Let me now turn in this long manifesto to some additional topics of concern in this crisis of abuse and cover-up. I would like to begin by offering a few reflections on what I see as mistaken ideas in the current situation. The first mistaken idea is that all of this is about celibacy. This is not about celibacy. A discussion of the theological importance, the relevance, of celibacy is a necessary one in the life of the Church. The reality of sexual abuse is not an argument against celibacy. I recently received a letter from a Saint Meinrad alumnus. In the letter, he said this:
    Earlier this year, I had my first experiences attending an Anthiochean Orthodox Church – I just fell in love with it; the liturgy had such spiritual depth. Then I came across a site for victims of abuse by Orthodox clergy – and was absolutely horrified – and this by a church which allows its priests to be married. Under the “convicted” names, there were sixty-nine alone listed whose names began with “a”[ … ] (when questioned about this a priest responded) There are going to be sinners.
                I mention this man’s letter because it demonstrates a point. I receive many letters and many responses to, for example, our appeal letters, that are critical of the Church. Some of these promote the idea that celibacy is a cause of the crisis. It is simply not true. I do believe that some priests are not able to live the celibate life. I do believe, along with the late Cardinal Francis George, that a vocation to celibacy needs to be foremost in the discernment of a vocation to the priesthood. I do not believe that celibacy can be seen as an “undesirable” condition for priestly service. I also know that celibacy is difficult. It is difficult but not impossible. In our formation program, we must promote two things: First is the importance of priestly celibacy, its significance in Church life, and second, the practical ways by which celibacy can be lived.
    I am sick to death of language about celibacy that is so spiritually sugar-coated that it means nothing. Our failure to talk about sex, sexual realities, sexual struggles in the Church among we priests, is part of our current problem. As priests, we not only remain thoroughly sexual beings, but sexuality, inter-personality is our way of exercising our priesthood. Genital relationships in marriage are only a part of our sexual identity. I am exercising my authentic sexuality in every interpersonal relationship I have. I am expressing my sexuality in worlds as mundane as table conversation and as profound as sacramental encounter. What does this look like in daily life? St. Paul says:
    The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.
    Healthy sexuality for the priest looks like the joy of getting up in the morning, or perhaps more in keeping with our context here, the joy of staying up late, not to revel in our own solitude, and whatever activities that solitude begets, but to be with others, to interchange with others, to be there for others, to serve others. Is that to say that we introverts are at a distinct disadvantage here? Not at all. What we introverts lack in energy, I would say, we make up for in depth. We want to be there deeply for others, to suffer with others, to be an offering for others, not too many at a time, but then, it doesn’t take too many; it only takes one. Extroverts live out their sexuality in the crowds. They love the crowds. That, too, is good ministry. That, too, is the work of God. Our sexuality, our relationality, is comprised of offering what we have as a gift and giving it generously no matter what form it takes.
    Sexual energy in diocesan life gets lived out in the thousand events of the day. Here is something to bear in mind for the priest and future priest. My encounters during the day are predicated on two things. The first is my own mood, my own interest, my own energy, my own investment of time. How willing am I to compromise mood? How willing am I to chasten my interests? How willing am I to expend energy, perhaps at the end of the day, when I think I have nothing left to give? What investment of time am I willing to make? That is the first part, but the second part is more tricky. What does the other need? How often I have found myself on a standard end-of-day walkabout and popping my head into someone’s open door, I have discovered need. There is a phone call just received. There is a temptation just overcome. There is pain or there is sorrow. There is just confusion.
    Here is where my interests and my energy meet their need. And of course, as in any exchange, we may like a bit of reciprocation but we do not count on it. We are called to serve, not to be served. We are called to give and not receive. We are called to pour out our lives, even late at night and for what, the building up of ourselves, our egos? Certainly not, unless we have learned the key to a healthy sexuality, unless myself and my ego are dependent upon service and that alone. I become my own congratulations, by living my life in integrity and not for gain. Gain is in the service, not in the reward for service.
    A second aspect of our sexuality is our need to encounter in a meaningful way. Self-understanding and knowledge of the world is essential to a fruitful priesthood. In other words, good priesthood, built upon a solid foundation of celibacy, is the fruit of wisdom. Wisdom is merely the understanding of the various types of encounter that we meet. What are these encounters?
    First, there is an encounter with yourself. Of all the people in the world, please do not lie to yourself. Do not tell lies to yourself about yourself. Will this lead to suffering, a shivering, self-awareness? It most certainly will, but our encounters with the souls of others, that intimate encounter, must proceed from an honest place in ourselves.
    The worst kind of co-dependence and enmeshment is the one who uses a privileged spiritual relationship to fulfill one’s own need, a need about which they are not honest with themselves or with the other. If you are falling in love with a parishioner, for God’s sake do not compound the problem by trying to be a priest to her. Do not confuse in her mind your infatuation and the service of Christ in the Gospel. 
    Celibacy, chastity, prepares me to look into the mirror and not only understand what I see, but like what I see, warts and all. The authentic and truthful encounter with myself allows me to encounter the other in all honesty. In all honesty, I know who I am; in all honesty, I hope to look to you. Chastity prepares us for this encounter by stripping away any false ideals of romanticism, false understandings of what our relationship is about. We encounter the other. I encounter you, also, when I am willing to accept you as you are, in your weakness, in your doubt and in your pain. I want to accept you as you are. I want to lead you someplace else, to a place of peace, a place of true personal justice.
    I can tell you this: The greatest pain I feel in life is to experience your pain and to know that I have no power to take it away. I see your pain probably closer than you realize, and it hurts that you must live there. Every pastor knows this. Every confessor knows this. There is nothing more heartbreaking than to hear confessions week after week and know that, for some internal obstacle, the penitent cannot accept God’s love and forgiveness, that the confessional is not a place of peace but a place to rehearse their deepest sense of unworthiness, week after week. Here we must rely on God’s grace. Here we must depend upon his mercy.
    Encounter with self and encounter with the other leads to a real encounter with the Church, not in its institutional forms, its bureaucracy, its codes of conduct, but to the Church living and breathing in its members. An encounter with the Church is not an encounter with perfection. It is, rather, an encounter with the perfection that comes to be in the realization of brokenness. Encounter with the Church is an encounter with the broken Christ in the Holy Eucharist.
    Encounter with the Church is encounter with his blood, poured out in the Mass certainly, but also poured out in the streets of the world, in our streets, in the violence that sometimes overwhelms us. Encounter with the Church is encounter with God in prayer, and that encounter is not always neat and formal. Sometimes our prayer is raw. Sometimes our prayer is a pouring out of sweat and blood, just as Jesus experienced on the cross. Sometimes our prayer is hoarse whispers, realizations from the back of our throats that come from that vacant place that celibacy and chastity have forged.
    If that, in my opinion, is what this crisis is not, we must ask ourselves, at the core, what it is. To me: This is a POWER issue; more precisely, it is a false power issue. Speaking in theological terms, we must admit that priests have power. They have the power to confect and the power to provide for the spiritual needs, the real spiritual needs, of people through Eucharist, through confession, through anointing. Power is real in the Church and priests have, in these sacramental ways, unlimited power. Priests have this power and yet, in many ways, they are not given the tools for handling this power. Every crisis we face in the Church today, from priests, bishops, whomever, every crisis is generated around the fact that there is an understanding of the power of the priest, and the priest does not know how to exercise that power in a humble and meaningful way.
    And so he lords his opinions over people. He makes his opinions about liturgy, for example, divine law. He refuses to listen to good counsel from the laity. He thinks that he can cover up misconduct, his own or others’, because he is invincible. He exists in a clerical world that often supports this kind of behavior and thinking. Many times, in previous formation scenarios, these priests suffered from a kind of intellectual (and sometimes somatic) narcissism. In my years as rector, I have come to understand one thing: narcissism is absolutely incompatible with the priesthood. Thinking of one’s self as god almighty is incompatible.
    We know that a clinical diagnosis of narcissism as a personality disorder is relatively rare. Residual narcissism, however, is much more prevalent and is often the outcome of the conditioning of a culture bent on radical individualism and selfishness. Clerical circles seem to be awakening to the effects of narcissism in the lives of priests in ways previously unrecognized. Very simply, narcissism is the inability to view the world outside of one’s self. It is chronic selfishness, at times, seemingly incurable self-reference. Everything in my worldview proceeds from my particular interests or the ways in which phenomena impact me.
    Everything must be created in my image; all activities should center on me. At some level, we find chronic narcissism humorous. The old adage of, “let’s stop talking about me, let’s talk about you. What do you think of me?” is a bit tired, but certainly also has a ring of truth in it. Narcissism, when it can be overcome, is very difficult to overcome. It lies at the heart of other modern chronic conditions, such as pornography and even overweening social networking. Narcissism, by its nature threatens relationships. Narcissism is problematic for the average person; it is fatal to priesthood. A person with chronic narcissistic tendencies cannot be a priest because priesthood requires a perspective of the other, a regard for the other, a respect for the other.
    Priesthood is about compassion, suffering with the other. A personality that allows for neither suffering nor the other cannot effectively be a priest. Narcissists cannot make a meaningful promise of obedience because there is no ability to truly listen and respect someone else. The narcissist may look obedient – he may even look hypervigilant in obedience, but it only works as long as he is satisfied with the outcome. Any challenge to the narcissistic worldview and the priest revolts. Narcissism has many forms, but intellectual narcissism is perhaps the most dangerous for the priest. I know more than anyone else. I know better than anyone, including my bishop, including the Church, including Christ.
    I believe that this description goes a long way in diagnosing part of our abuse crisis. In this crisis, we have priests who feel powerless because of illness and given no way of helping them deal with illness. They then assert their lack of power over those who are helpless. I also believe that this kind of personality problem was not dealt with in previous generations of seminary formation. We did not adequately screen candidates. We disdained the usefulness of psychology. We spiritualized problems that were not spiritual, but mental. We turned a blind eye to misbehavior in an era when the power of the priest was not questioned. And everyone did this, brother priests, parishioners, law enforcement, bishops, everyone.
    Now, what must we do here? I would see our tasks as multifaceted and difficult. That is all the more reason for us to undertake them. First, I think it is the duty of this seminary and school of theology to train students away from inauthentic clerical culture. I cannot tell you how sick I am of thoughts about priestly life and culture that center on the best scotch and the best cigars. Ideals of clerical privilege are bred of overwrought desires to “soften the blow” of priestly service by creating pockets of self-comfort.
    Authentic clerical culture must depend on prayer, on sacrifice, on service, on bleeding oneself dry in caring for others. I have said many times that I hope to drop dead at the altar. I can tell you that is how I focus my comments to these men. We must do that or our credibility will be lost in a haze of cigar smoke. I believe it is essential to prepare these men to tell the truth about everything. We must not rely on the internal forum as a shelter for hiding problems that must be dealt with publically, for the good of the Church. We cannot have seminarians here who try to submarine their way through seminary so they can promote a vision of the Church that is both inauthentic and unhealthy in so many ways. If it was authentic and healthy, they would proclaim it from the housetops. We must have good processes for dealing with problems and questions. We cannot be shy about addressing these questions full on. If an accusation is made, it must be dealt with promptly and thoroughly, but also charitably. There is a great deal more I could say about these questions, and that will undoubtedly come in future talks.
    In conclusion, I would like to mention a book I have recently read and close with some suggestions for the way in which this body can assist us as we move forward. One of my favorite authors is Doris Kearns Goodwin. Her various biographies about great leaders have been very inspiriting to me through the years – Lincoln, the Roosevelts. Her latest book is called Leadership in Turbulent Times. Frankly, I am somewhat smitten with it. She is very forward in her discussion of how times of fracture and fear must make true leaders even bolder.
    I mention the book only to focus on one of her many conclusions, and that is, a leader, or an institution, is never judged in the long run on how well it functions in ordinary time. We are going to be judged by how well we handle ourselves in times of trouble, and doubt and grave difficulty. In other words, this is the time for us to stand strong as an institution and to help guide and direct the course of our Church through these difficult times. You, Overseers, are our partners in this enterprise, and I look to you for support and good counsel in the months and years ahead. My experience has certainly been that this is something upon which I cannot only rely, but find true personal support in, support in building up the Church, day by day, stone by stone, into that heavenly Jerusalem.


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  4. Oblate Conference: The Domestic Church
    September 22, 2018
    Very Rev. Denis Robinson, OSB

    When the Benedictine movement was established in the sixth-century, the signs of the times read one thing: Trouble. Benedict established the ideals of the Benedictine ethos in times of trouble, in times of social and political upheaval. Today we offer the quaint expression “barbarian invasions” to name this movement in Europe.

    It means very little to us today, but at the time, the barbarian invasions signaled the wholesale destruction of culture, the breaking apart of the Roman Empire, of its political and social ideals, of its cultural institutions, its education systems, and its literary world. Whole swaths of intellectual history preserved by the Romans were lost, including the works of historians, philosophers, poets and playwrights.

    Into this morass of violence and normlessness, Benedict came to provide, as far as possible, an oasis of sanity and tradition to a world careening out of control. What was the Benedictine ideal? How can we describe it? I believe St. Benedict understood that Christian identity and Christian practice must be at the very heart of the ideals of the Church.

    He also understood that this identity and this practice must be total; it must encompass every aspect of the human person. It must be something that one wakes with in the morning and goes to bed with at night. Christian identity and Christian practice meant informing not only MY life, but that of all I might encounter through my witness to the world. It was the new evangelization of the sixth century.

    Benedict also understood what we today refer to as the domestic church, the ideal of a church that exists not only within the parameters of formal worship, but also within the ideals of daily living. Is this not also the ideal of Benedictine oblation, of living the realities of discipleship in the world? There can be little doubt that there is need for such a witness today.

    Like Benedict, we are living in difficult times. We are living in times of pain and scandal for the Church. We are being challenged every day to forage through the mess of what we are almost hourly encountering in unfolding problems for the institution. Like Benedict’s own time, we are living in a world of normlessness, of confusion, and part of that mess lies squarely in the institution of the Church. How can we Benedictines help our Church (and our world) to heal?

    The State of the Domestic Church Today: A U.S .Perspective

    Examining the ideals of the domestic church in a contemporary U.S. perspective, one must keep in mind the foundational principles of U.S. culture, particularly the separation of church and state. This ideal has afforded U.S. Catholics a great deal of freedom from a historical point of view, but it may also have had an eroding effect on the ideals of Church as understood by classical ecclesiology, that is, the full integration of Church into the social order.

    For many of us, the Church is not a daily reality, but a place to go for a very limited time on Saturday or Sunday. The Church gives you a 45-minute hint of spirituality once a week and you are on your way. We do not necessarily think of our parishes as a place to spend time, much less as places that offer us something real to take into the world.

    Our Fr. Cyprian Davis, of happy memory, once said that the institution of the Church must be thought of as a train station, a place to pull in to take on new passengers and dispatch others, refuel and be on our way. Being on our way, engaging the world with Christian values, understanding how that “fuel” of that station informs every action of that way, these are the realities that we must attend to most carefully in cultivating discipleship. But, when we view our “state” responsibilities as something so removed from Church, we are left with a dilemma: How can we be faithful Christians in the world, how can we live our values, cultivated in Church “out there”?

    Another challenge for the domestic church in contemporary U.S. culture is the general demise of domesticities. The home and the extended family are no longer the norm in U.S. culture the way they were 100 or even 75 years ago. As family units become increasingly distended, they provide less of the formational matrix that they once did.

    Likewise, as family members engage in individual projects, they seem to be less likely to engage religious activities or really any activities as a family. As family life fragments, members turn to alternative support mechanisms, and sometimes family life can become a kind of battleground as these individual mechanisms compete for dominance.

    Just as the domestic church is demonstrating problems of identity, likewise the contemporary ecclesial environment is having problems. The battlefield of the sexual abuse crisis in the U.S. has left many, if not an advancing majority, with negative reactions to the institution of the Church.

    An adage of previous generations was that young adults generally drifted away from the practice of Catholicism until the time of their marriage, or the first appearance of children. Then they tended to rejoin ecclesial structures, go to Church and participate in the activities of parishes and schools. This is less the case today.

    While the same drift exists in 20-somethings, there is not a concomitant return of young people as family structures begin to develop. In a recent study, the following was observed about a meeting of young adults:

    The low attendance was discouraging. It told me that the church is irrelevant to their lives. They do not even care enough about church to come and tell us why they don’t want to come. For them, the church is a dead letter, not good news.

    Given these realities, there is a need to reinvigorate the domestic church beyond the parameters of ecclesial understandings, at least for the present. Cultural norms are changing and growing, as the institutional Church reforms itself for a new generation; likewise, the domestic church must be strengthened and encouraged into a new strength and position.

    Rule of St. Benedict – Guides and Principles

    As cultural norms within the Church continue to change and grow, the development of the domestic church seems to be not only a desirable outcome, but possibly the means of establishing a new credibility for Christian practice. If Christian ideals are to thrive, they must be given a wider place of involvement than formal institutional structures. The Church must move to the workplace, the school, recreational centers and, of course, to the home.

    In framing new attitudes to assist this necessary expansion, it is helpful to turn to a tried-and-true Christian ideal for community building, The Rule of St. Benedict and, in particular to the ideals of Benedictine oblation. In his rule, Benedict presents as series of ideals for building the community of faith at the local level. These seem to apply quite readily to the domestic church.

    First is the idea that there is such a thing as the domestic Church. Again, this is something that cannot be taken for granted in our contemporary cultural setting. A culture inundated in the “separation of church and state” frequently places the ideals of living outside the parameters of formal religious institutions in the area of “state” and thereby closed off to influences theological, liturgical and specifically moral.

    St. Benedict proposes the ideal of finding God in all things and glorifying God in all things. True practice of faith becomes not esoteric knowledge, but wisdom distilled from the daily. Situating the presence of God in daily life becomes the first task of building the culture of the domestic church.

    Second, prayer is the center of the domestic church. Domestic church members have the task of centering prayer in the church at home. Prayer is often seen as the domain of the institutional Church, yet there is the possibility of seeing prayer as an essential element of life and thereby practiced outside the material parameters of the institution.

    Teaching people to pray at home, with one another and alone, and to pray in the workplace, the school, the shopping center, becomes part of developing the personality of domestic Christians. Ritual is a part of life, an essential anthropological theme, and thereby must be practiced in every place where human persons find themselves.

    “Pray without ceasing for this is the will of God” is not only a temporal ideal, but a spatial one as well. Benedictine oblation instills in its adherents the necessity of consecrating the day through active prayer and to see prayer as a part of the oratory, certainly, but equally an activity of the field and workroom.

    Third, St. Benedict is convinced in the Rule that cenobitism (people living together) is the best way to live. Benedict favors a community life and one that stretches over the long term. He wants people to be at home and develop themselves at home. A monastery, like a family home, is not just a place to sleep and leave your things.

    It is where we work out our identity, in the living crucible of family life, as rewarding and frustrating as that might be. Family rituals help to create an environment where this is possible and encouraged. Benedictine oblation helps to focus the activities of the family certainly, but also the realities of daily living, the way in which very normal activities are engaged.

    Fourth, meals are a major place to meet. Taking a cue from the Gospel, St. Benedict promotes the idea of meals as a central place to meet and express values. Presence at meals is essential in the Rule, and the meal is the place where values are expressed, the connection being explicit between table fellowship and the fellowship of the altar.

    What is the condition of the family meal today? In many families, it no longer exists. Eating is no longer an opportunity to express essential values of human living, but becomes a pragmatic means of gaining fuel for additional, sometimes directionless, encounters. Within the context of oblation, meals become the place where family life is focused and consecrated.

    A fifth important point for St. Benedict is that everyone has a job. Work in the home and for the benefit of the family is essential. Work provides not only for the accomplishment of necessary tasks, but also uses labor as a means of establishing connection and ownership in the domestic environment. The reward for work is justifiable pride in the domestic church and its environment. Work is also accompanied by prayer. Again, finding a connection between spirituality and the mundane tasks of life becomes an essential component of strengthening ecclesial identity in the home.

    Sixth, for St. Benedict, objects are always to be respected. Material things, even the most lowly, have value and should be respected. The institutional Church has its objects that inform identity – liturgical garments, vessels, images, etc. Likewise, in the domestic church, there is a need to honor creation.
    How will the domestic church understand its material culture? One way in which this might be realized is through the establishment of a home oratory. The presence of a home prayer space provides a needed focus for everything else that happens in the home.

    Finally, time is to be respected. St. Benedict demonstrates in the Rule an authentic love for temporality. Everything in the course of the day is observed, acknowledged and sanctified. This respect for time and space is very much a product of Benedict’s authentic incarnational theology. As in the person of Christ, we find the divine in the ordinary, the prospect of daily life.

    These are the basic principles for realizing the Benedictine ideal, in the home, in the world, through the real spirituality of oblation. I believe that this is also the way in which our Church might be renewed.

    Again, dear oblates, we are living in troubled times, particularly for the Church as an institution. Domestic life, oblate life, is not an alternative to a stumbling institution. The purpose of the institution is to strengthen discipleship in the world. It may also be the case that an empowered domestic church may have the benefit of raising up ramparts for the institutional Church that highlight its essential character in the world. The Church is one and we are one in the Church.


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Fr. Denis Robinson, OSB
Fr. Denis Robinson, OSB
Fr. Denis Robinson, OSB

Fr. Denis Robinson, OSB, is president-rector of Saint Meinrad School of Theology in St. Meinrad, IN. A Benedictine monk, he is also an assistant professor of systematic theology. A Mississippi native, Fr. Denis attended Saint Meinrad College and School of Theology, earning a bachelor's degree in philosophy in 1989 and a Master of Divinity in 1993. From 1993-97, he was parochial vicar for the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception in Memphis, TN. He joined the Saint Meinrad monastery in August 1997. Fr. Denis also attended the Catholic University of Louvain, Belgium, where he received a master’s degree in theology in 2002, a licentiate in sacred theology in 2003, and doctorates in sacred theology and philosophy in 2007.

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