height of chastity practised by St. Aloysius. The particular degree of
reserve alluded to above, however admirable in him--and the fact that
the Church records it with approval in the official lessons on his
feast is sufficient proof of this--would be in us not only
affectation, but wholly unsuited to the conditions in which we live.
Nevertheless, we have to imitate the same spirit in our measure and
our social intercourse with our family must be limited both in degree
and in character. The very fact of the sensible sympathy being so
strong between mother and son, or between brother and sister, is one
of the reasons--and not the least of them--why the Synods of
Westminster prohibit a priest's female relatives from living in his
house, without special circumstances to justify it, lest such close
intercourse might draw the heart away from that higher kind of
sympathy which we seek from Almighty God in prayer.
We should in fact be exceedingly foolish if we were to limit our
aspirations to the avoidance of those things in which there might be a
danger of leading us into sin. That is indeed the minimum to which we
are all bound; but there are degrees in this virtue, and we can all of
us aim at a higher detachment from sensible consolations than that to
which we are bound under sin, and the higher we can put the practice
of this virtue, the nearer we shall get to Almighty God, and the
greater will be the power of our prayers.
From consideration of our relations with our own family, we proceed to
the question of our attitude to members of the other sex generally and
the need of strict limitation and mortification in this matter. In
discussing this question, we shall appeal to the authority of a small
brochure, privately printed some forty years ago, by one who can speak
with as great authority as any man living or dead, on the practice of
the virtue in circumstances of the present day in this country. [4] It
will be worth our while to study what he says in considerable detail.
He begins by quoting in favour of the rules he lays down some widely
different authorities, such as St. Augustine, Thomas a Kempis, St.
Ignatius and St. Francis de Sales. These great men lived at different
epochs, amidst different surroundings, and in different circumstances.
Their types of piety differed widely from one another. If, then, we
find that they are all agreed in recommending a particular line of
conduct, a very strong presumption is created in favour of their
recommendation.
He continues:--
"[Our duty] is indeed all summed up in the one word of the
_Imitation_, 'Be not familiar with any woman.' This familiarity is the
one thing which according to all is to be avoided. And if we ask what
precisely is meant by the word, we may say that at least it means, as
regards the external conduct of a priest, the avoidance of long or
frequent intercourse with women, even by letters; as regards his
heart, a firm purpose never to seek consolation or recreation in
female society; and, finally, it means that the counsel _nunquam solus
cum sola_ should be as far as possible the rule of daily life. Of
course this rule is observed so long as he is in the sight of others
or is easily visible. Priests are bound by vow to celibacy, and as a
consequence the saints quoted above regard them as bound in prudence
to treat with women on business only, and never to look on them as
companions or intimate friends."
A little further on he anticipates possible objections based on the
condition of modern society, especially in this country. He writes:--
"We are compelled to look at the world as it is, and it cannot be
denied that in an English-speaking society a priest is expected to do
much more than administer the sacraments and preach or catechise.
There is always a great deal of mental as well as bodily misery to be
met with. This misery is much increased in the English-speaking world
by differences in religion, by the circumstances connected with
conversions to the faith and the persecutions to which these give
occasion. On the other hand, centuries of persecution have created in
our Catholic laity generally a larger and deeper confidence than is
perhaps to be found in other countries. By their very nature women are
inclined to lean on others. What more natural than that many should
look to the priest--their 'director' as they love to call him--as
their one and only guide in all their doubts and troubles? Again, a
priest has frequently to call in the aid of women in his efforts to
reclaim souls from sin. It will often happen that he can reach the
ignorant and sinful only through the co-operation of nuns or good
women living in the world, or of both. Hence innumerable occasions of
treating with women will arise to which he is compelled by his very
duty as a priest.
"All this is true. Still there is nothing in these modern
circumstances to justify a departure from the reserve inculcated by
the saints. Nay, these circumstances only the more strongly confirm
the saying of the _Imitation_, 'we should have charity towards all,
but familiarity is not expedient.' Charity is universal. Intimacy or
familiarity is necessarily confined to a few. If a priest acts from
charity, he will be ready to receive all and at all seasons. But if he
follows natural inclination, he will necessarily waste on a few the
time and heart that might have been given to many. . . .
"Still on the plea of the difference of their times from ours, it may
be said that the reserve which they recommended and practised has
become impossible for a priest at the present day. It may be alleged
that he is indeed bound to avoid sin, and therefore all proximate
occasions of sin, whether the danger be to himself or to others. But
he must be natural in his behaviour towards women no less than towards
men; otherwise his ministry will be to a great extent sterile and his
confessional will be shunned. And after all, every Christian, it may
be said, is bound to avoid sin. Why should a priest be more on his
guard than an ordinary layman?
"We have thus two models of behaviour in a priest put before us--the
reserved and the natural. Is the reserve of the saints possible
nowadays, and if so, is it desirable? In answering this question let
us bear in mind that a priest is ordained not only, as the Apostle
says, to offer up gifts and sacrifices for sin, but is likewise sent
to all who are living in ignorance and sin, 'qui condolere possit iis
qui ignorant et errant.' Hence the main occupation of a priest in
charge of souls is to prevent sin by instruction, and to absolve from
sin in the Sacrament of Penance. In other words, to teach Christian
doctrine and to hear Confessions may be said to be the sum of a
priest's work in dealing with souls. For Baptism and the sacraments of
the dying are only other forms of loosing souls from the bonds of sin.
The question then is, does reserve with women create any hindrance in
this essential work of a priest? Unquestionably not. Protestant
writers, indeed, looking at the Church from outside, and not
understanding the real feeling of Catholics, have sometimes supposed
that they prefer going to Confession to an easy-going, self-indulgent
priest, rather than one who leads a mortified, unworldly life. But all
practical Catholics well know there cannot be a greater mistake.
Penitents seek indeed one who will be patient and kind. In proportion
to the weight of sin which they feel, they long for a man of God, who
in the words of the Apostle already quoted, 'Condolere possit iis qui
ignorant et errant,' and one on whose judgment they can rely. They
want one who will treat with them in God's name and for His sake. This
being so, is it not manifest that the paternal reserve of the saints
is more sure to attract confidence than the familiarity of the natural
man?"
A similar idea was no doubt in the mind of Cardinal Manning when he
wrote that "The priest who is seldom seen in society is the priest
whom men desire most to have beside them when they die." By being
"seldom in society" he of course meant mixing in the society of men
and women as one of themselves. For it is abundantly possible to go
among mankind and freely mix with them even in social gatherings, in
the performance of one's pastoral duty, while at the same time keeping
all the reserve pleaded for by the writer of the pamphlet and
observing the rules of custody of the eyes and of the senses
inculcated by spiritual writers. In adapting these rules to ourselves,
it may be of use to consider some of the various classes of females to
whom they may apply.
First there are young girls who are almost or quite children. We
easily get familiar with them, call them by their Christian names,
join in their play or amusements, and should rightly resent the idea
of there being anything wrong or even dangerous. Yet too much
familiarity with the young is never very desirable. The author of the
_Imitation_ specially warns us against it. Their society is pleasant
and innocent; yet the very simplicity and irresponsibility of youth
tends to draw us rather to a lower than a higher level. In the case of
a priest among his people however, he has to bear in mind that as time
passes the child grows into a girl. Familiarity once admitted is not
easily broken off, though a time conies when it is more than
undesirable, and finally it becomes a scandal to others and a danger
to oneself. Sometimes one has heard a priest address a young lady by
her Christian name, perhaps in a contracted form; which sounds
startling; and the explanation is to be sought in the familiarity
acquired in past years when she was only a child. If a proper reserve
had been maintained then, the familiarity would never have reached its
final state.
Secondly, there are good and devout young ladies in the congregation--
Children of Mary, perhaps, who are zealous to run their confraternity.
They come to the Presbytery to discuss their plans and schemes, and to
organise the Confraternity devotions. Or they may be regular workers
in the sacristy, members of the Altar Society, or those who help in
collecting money, or in visiting the poor, and such-like. Or they may
be penitents, who come to discuss matters of conscience. We must not
be thrown off our guard by their being pious. There may be danger to
us, or even in their weakness, to them, in that which at first sight
looks so proper and desirable. Means must be found to give them all
the spiritual help they want, while avoiding all kind of familiarity.
Thirdly, going to the other extreme, there are the evil-minded and
designing, who would love nothing better than the ruin of the priest.
Their power is great, their patience greater, and their cleverness
prevents them from being fathomed. The only method to meet them is to
keep them at a distance from the beginning. Once they have acquired
influence over one, they will be more than difficult to shake off.
After this we may mention various categories, the officious who wish
to know everything, the priest's own business as well as theirs; the
idle who want to gossip, to take offence at trifles and then make it
up, and in so doing to acquire influence; then the class of elderly
ladies who have no sinister design, but love all kinds of
ecclesiastical gossip to fill their time and thoughts; then those with
whom the priest comes into daily official contact, such as the
schoolmistress or housekeeper; and, lastly, one who may belong to
several of the above categories, who is truly motherly, and taking
pity on a priest's loneliness, wants to tend him in his wants; to keep
such a one with proper reserve requires no small determination.
For all these classes of females, the same law holds good--charity and
helpfulness to all, familiarity with none. There can be no danger
without previous familiarity, and though in some cases familiarity can
exist without danger, there are other reasons which have been given
why it should be shunned. Once more we can quote the same writer:--
"The fear for one's chastity is only one of the reasons, and often not
the most important, for this priestly reserve, as indeed is clear from
the lives of the saints themselves. Had St. Augustine, or St. Francis
of Sales, for example, any practical reason to fear for themselves, or
would there have been any danger of scandal to others in their case
from a more free and easy way of treating with women from that which
they adopted? Yet we have seen the rule which they laid down for
themselves."
Alas, however, that we cannot conclude this conference without
alluding to actual danger. The same writer proceeds:--
"In truth now, as at all times, the main difficulty lies in the human
heart itself and not in external circumstances. It will appear at
times as if a departure from such reserved behaviour is not only
justifiable but absolutely necessary for the well-being of a
particular soul. In this matter the danger lies precisely in
exceptional cases in which the priest is liable to be deceived by the
appearance of good. He may easily forget that in all such cases a
triple danger is involved--a danger for himself, a danger for the soul
with which he is dealing, and a danger of scandal in the world that is
always looking on. And these dangers are so distinct that even if
assured of his own personal safety, he is not thereby secure as to the
soul of the penitent, or even if both feel blameless in their own
hearts, disedification may be occasioned in others."
Following out the danger to the priest himself, the next stage may
easily be his sensible appreciation of the devotion of his penitent or
friend, and her kindness to him. Gradually the care and attention she
shows him undermines the sternness of his vocation. He loses his sense
of spirituality and the saviour of his priesthood languishes. His mass
is no longer to him what it once was; his church has ceased to be the
abode of peace and prayer; his power of seeking consolation in the
Tabernacle is gone; his pastoral work has become irksome to him; he
almost regrets the day when he bound himself to celibacy. What wonder
if he at length casts off his priesthood, and "retires" or disappears,
whether or not it be known to his people what the state of affairs
really is?
Such a falling away is, alas, possible even without, or at least
independently of, any criminal intercourse. Instances occur to mind
when such has happened to a priest at an age when one would have
thought the danger from violence of passion was almost over. His lack
of appreciation of the positive virtue of celibacy paved the way, and
his giving up his priesthood followed. But for all of us there is the
fatal possibility of a more complete fall and spiritual ruin in its
fullest sense. Of this, however, we may rest assured that when a final
fall takes place and one of our brethren abandons his priesthood, it
is not the result of an isolated action or a first fall. Judas
received many warnings and calls to repentance before our Lord
addressed to him those last sad words, "What thou dost do quickly"--as
though to say, get it over and done with. When a priest first goes
wrong, we may be sure that he receives many a similar call to
repentance. And he has the sacrament of Penance within his grasp, to
help him to recover his stability, which, thank God, often bears
fruit. But the time may come when warnings neglected, graces set at
nought, occasions of sin not avoided, gradually do their work and
shipwreck ensues, final and in a sense almost irrevocable. In such
case at least we can bear in mind that it never came within the bounds
of possibility until such rules and aspirations as we have been
pleading for were set aside. One cannot fall over a precipice until
one first goes near the edge.
There is no sorrow in a priest's life to compare with the fall of a
brother priest. In such a case we pray indeed that He who is all
mercy, who gave him his first call, will rescue him whom He loves; and
any act of ours which will help towards such rescue we shall esteem as
the greatest of acts of charity. But if we have to face this sorrow,
let us also draw our own lesson. "He who thinketh himself to stand,
let him take heed lest he fall." Let it be a stimulus to us to renew
our resolutions, to rise higher in the scale of celibacy, to realise
its sacredness and the dignity which it gives to our lives. "How
beautiful is the chaste generation with glory: because it is known
both to God and to men . . . it triumpheth for ever, winning the
reward of undefiled conflicts." [5]
And if the dangers we have to meet are great, our trust in God's help
should be greater. Let us end with one more quotation from the
brochure:--
"Taking then all circumstances into account, it is clear that the
preservation of perfect purity of heart in a priest is far above the
power of unaided nature. It behoves us therefore to consider what
means must be used for attaining this end. Our Blessed Lord's words to
the Apostles, 'Vigilate et orate ne intretis in tentationem' apply to
this case in their fullest sense. All external precautions will be
insufficient without prayer, and prayer without such precautions will
be like calling on God to work a miracle. Above all things, therefore,
a priest must start with the conviction that this work is
supernatural, and that he needs constant light and aid from God not
only to save souls, but likewise to keep himself from sinking in his
efforts to save others from destruction."
[1] 1 Cor. vii. 32, 33.
[2] 1 Cor. vii. 38.
[3] St. Luke i. 25.
[4] After this lapse of time, there seems no reason to conceal the
name of the writer, who was the Rev. Robert Whitty, S.J. He was in
many respects a remarkable man. Educated chiefly in Ireland, he
finished his course at St. Edmund's College, where he remained some
years as a Professor; then at a comparatively early age he became
Cardinal Wiseman's Vicar-General, which post he held during the
exciting times of the so-called Papal Aggression in 1850. A few years
later he joined the Society of Jesus, in which he afterwards became
Provincial, and then English Consulter to the General. Certainly no
man has a better right than he to speak on the subject before us.
[5] Wisdom iv. i, 2.
CONFERENCE V
OBEDIENCE
THERE is no more solemn moment in the whole Ordination Service than
when the newly ordained priest kneels before his Bishop, who, taking
his hands between his own, asks him the question, "Promittis mihi et
successoribus meis reverentiam et obedientiam?" and on receiving the
requisite promise, kisses him on the cheek, saying the words, "Pax
Domini sit semper tecum."
The words "reverentiam et obedientiam" may perhaps be freely rendered
as "a loyal obedience," and the solemnity of the surroundings when the
promise is made should not only serve to impress it, on the mind and
memory, but is also an indication of the importance which the Church
attaches to that virtue in the future life of the priest.
The virtue of obedience is one which we are accustomed to read about
as the foundation of the religious life, and it has been practised in
a high degree in the various religious orders and congregations. We
have often heard of special instances to illustrate this. A Jesuit
Provincial receives a letter one morning informing him that he is to
relinquish his office, and to devote himself to another work, of an
altogether humble description, and immediately he prepares to leave
for his new sphere of labour at the earliest possible moment. A
Franciscan missionary is commanded to leave one centre of work, and to
proceed to another, perhaps a thousand miles away, and before the day
is out, he has started on his journey. These, indeed, are special
instances of an extreme nature; but the general type is common to all
religious.
Moreover, obedience to command is carried into all the details of their
daily lives. The bell summons them to the various duties of the day, and
they aim at instant obedience, so that a perfect religious will
immediately leave off anything he is saying or writing in order to give
a willing and punctual compliance. The story is often quoted of the
Carthusians, who speak only once a week, leaving off in the middle of a
sentence at the sound of the bell to resume the thread in a week's time.
Again, no work is undertaken by them without the direct command of their
superior, but whatever he directs has to be done at once, and to the
best of their power, even though they may not see the reason of his
command, or may even in their own mind think it unwise. In the more
perfect stages of obedience they are called upon to submit their
judgment and opinions to those of the superior. It is no wonder that a
strict novitiate is enjoined to train them to such obedience as this.
In reading these descriptions, however, there seems to be in the case of
a secular priest some unreality. He will never be called upon to
practise obedience of this kind. If his Bishop moves him from one
mission to another, he will not usually do so in this sudden manner. If
the priest has reached a certain age or standing, his Bishop will
consult his feelings before appointing him to any new work, to ascertain
whether it is such that he thinks he can do, or to see whether he has
any great objection to it. In a secular priest's daily life he is not
called to his various duties by the sound of the bell at all in the same
way as a religious. He is expected to be punctual when he has to perform
pastoral duties, and his day is usually mapped out by necessary
limitations caused by his work--sometimes regular, often most irregular
and unforeseen,--but that is all. He is in no case expected to break off
suddenly at the sound of a bell in the manner described.
Then again, religious obedience is often described as a "passive
virtue." According to Rodriguez, [1] a religious who practises it in
perfection makes himself like a dead body, which has no movement of its
own, but is taken from place to place by the living. Surely nothing can
be more unlike than this to the condition of a secular priest, who has
to be all activity and energy. He has to use his own judgment in
everything, and only rarely receives any definite command or guidance
from his Bishop or Superior.
What then? Does a secular priest not have to practise this virtue? or is
his obedience at least on a lower level than that of a religious? This
is surely a pertinent question and calls for a careful answer.
A little consideration will show us that the obedience of a secular
priest differs from that of a religious not in degree but in kind, and
that even if we grant that for the perfection of the virtue we may have
to look to the religious state, the obedience practised by a secular may
be, and commonly is, in many respects harder of accomplishment. Let us
examine this in detail.
The obedience of a religious may be compared with that of a private
soldier. The command is given, and he has nothing to do but to obey. The
strength of an army is dependent upon the unanimity and promptness of
their obedience. The orders are given by the officer in command, in an
absolute manner, and he bears all the responsibility: the soldier has no
say as to whether the order is wise or unwise; he has only to execute
it. The work of the typical religious includes much of this principle
and acquires proportionate strength. The superior views the situation,
and, aided by the advice of whatever form of consultation his particular
rule provides, he determines what is to be done. He communicates his
decision to whom it may concern, and they have at once to receive the
commands and execute them.