To change the Catholic church, start with its bishop selection process
Mounting evidence of the widespread failure of Catholic bishops to report cases of child abuse by clergy, as well as their recycling of abusive priests from parish to parish, should lead to a closer look at the process by which bishops are selected. Putting it briefly, they select their own episcopal colleagues. Yes, nominations must be approved by Rome, and technically, the pope appoints bishops, but the selection process, the vetting, takes place on a more local level.
Bishops, like executives in any organization, are likely to select men who share their perspective, who have been their close associates. In general, new bishops are enlisted from the bureaucracy of the dioceses in a region. With some hopeful progress, Pope Francis has been encouraging the selection of more “pastoral” bishops. That’s code for bishops who have been priests out in the trenches, as it were, not “office boys.”
The spotlight has been focused on Archbishop Theodore McCarrick, stripped by the pope of his rank as a cardinal over allegations that he sexually abused minors and seminarians. McCarrick had a strong voice over many years in selecting the bishops now at the helm of dozens of dioceses.
With the present system in place, the Catholic people everywhere are likely to be suspicious of their own bishops. Was it only McCarrick, and the bishops of Pennsylvania, of Chile, and of Australia who were soft on pedophilia? Was Pennsylvania somehow unique in producing 300 offending priests over many decades?
The only way to lift the cloud of suspicion is a radical reform of the method of selecting bishops. Lay men and women must be part of the process. At the present time, not even priests have a voice in the selection of their bishop.
When I was a priest in the Diocese of Brooklyn in the 1960s, energized by the idea of collegiality that emerged from the Second Vatican Council, a Priests’ Senate was established. Rank-and-file parish priests elected delegates. The group, which functioned in an advisory capacity to the bishop, met with high hopes of having an effective voice in church affairs, including the selection of the bishop. (To our shame, we were so taken up with the “junior clergy” having a voice that no thought was given to the laity also being represented.)
What happened? Although not a member of the senate, I followed its proceedings with high expectations. The bishop listened to the priests, which in itself was a step forward, but seldom took their advice. After a few years the initial energy waned and many of the younger clergy, myself included, left the ministry. A voice in church governance was not the only issue, of course. Mandatory celibacy was also in the cross hairs of anticipated reform.
In North Carolina during the same period, tension between the bishop and priests over the issue of power sharing reached such a high pitch that in 1969 nearly a quarter of the priests in the state wrote a letter calling on Bishop Vincent Waters to resign. Waters ignored the letter, and as in Brooklyn and elsewhere, the priests either resigned from ministry or became resigned to the status quo.
Of course, parish and diocesan advisory groups do exist today. They are toothless. The main thing bishops want from lay consultation is assistance in fund raising. The bishop alone, selected by a secret process, controls the show. He may be personable, but his “flock” has no say in the selection of their “shepherd” and no meaningful voice in governance.
It should not be all that surprising that the cesspool, having at last been opened, is emitting such a sorry stench.