And the leading contender for Clueless, Oafish Op-Ed of 2012...

.... is "For Priests’ Wives, a Word of Caution", by Sara Ritchey, assistant professor of medieval European history at the University of Louisiana, Lafayette, which appeared in yesterday's edition of the award-winning journal of religious thought and Church history, The New York Times. It's difficult to do justice to Ritchey's historical hit piece in a single sentence, but it is easy to bluntly identify what she gets right: almost nothing. Dan Brown would be proud if he weren't so jealous.

Okay, enough praise; let's look at a few of the low lights. The piece opens: "What will life be like for the wives of Roman Catholic priests?"

By "Roman Catholic" I take she refers to "Catholic", as is the common practice. The problem is at least two-fold:

1) she is more accurately referring to Catholic priests of the Latin Church, one of several rites within the Catholic Church;

2) the majority of those rites have married clergy—and have had them for centuries. The Catechism identifies the Latin (which includes the Roman and Ambrosian rites), as well as Byzantine, Alexandrian or Coptic, Syriac, Armenian, Maronite and Chaldean (par 1203). The Byzantine, the largest of the Eastern rites, contains the Ukrainian, Ruthenian, and other rites.

The Catechism explains:

All the ordained ministers of the Latin Church, with the exception of permanent deacons, are normally chosen from among men of faith who live a celibate life and who intend to remain celibate "for the sake of the kingdom of heaven." Called to consecrate themselves with undivided heart to the Lord and to "the affairs of the Lord," they give themselves entirely to God and to men. Celibacy is a sign of this new life to the service of which the Church's minister is consecrated; accepted with a joyous heart celibacy radiantly proclaims the Reign of God.

In the Eastern Churches a different discipline has been in force for many centuries: while bishops are chosen solely from among celibates, married men can be ordained as deacons and priests. This practice has long been considered legitimate; these priests exercise a fruitful ministry within their communities.  Moreover, priestly celibacy is held in great honor in the Eastern Churches and many priests have freely chosen it for the sake of the Kingdom of God. In the East as in the West a man who has already received the sacrament of Holy Orders can no longer marry. (pars 1579-80)

The significance of all this is obvious: if the Catholic Church has had married clergy for, well, two thousand years, Ritchey's question surely should be put to the wives of some of those married priests. It also reveals how misleading is this statement by Ritchey: "The Vatican has stressed that the allowance for married priests is merely an exception (like similar dispensations made in the past by the Vatican) and by no means a permanent condition of the priesthood." This might be acceptable and understandable if she used more precise and accurate language within the larger context—theologically and historically—but, alas, the point of the op-ed is not to illuminate or educate, but to disparage the Church for not treating priest's wives with sufficient respect.

Now as then, the church’s critics and defenders are rehashing arguments about the implications of having married priests in an institution that is otherwise wary of them. But in the midst of these debates, we should pause to ponder the environment that the priests’ wives might expect to encounter. After all, the status of the priest’s wife is perhaps even more strange and unsettling than that of her ordained Catholic husband.

That is a mighty big and broad claim, isn't it? How, exactly, is the status of a priest's wife strange? And unsettling? How so? To whom? Surely not to Eastern Catholics (and Eastern Orthodox); and probably not even to the Catholics who attend St. Mary Catholic Church here in Eugene, Oregon, whose associate pastor is married, as he is a former Episcopalian who was ordained a Catholic priest a few years ago this past year. Does Ritchey interview any of these wives? No, she goes right to the heart of the matter: the First Lateran Council, held in 1123 (warning: don't read this while eating or drinking):

While the early Christian church praised priestly chastity, it did not promulgate decisive legislation mandating priestly celibacy until the reform movement of the 11th century. At that point, the foremost purpose of priestly celibacy was to clearly distinguish and separate the priests from the laity, to elevate the status of the clergy. In this scheme, the mere presence of the priest’s wife confounded that goal, and thus she incurred the suspicion, and quite often the loathing, of parishioners and church reformers. You can’t help wondering what feelings she will inspire today.

By the time of the First Lateran Council, the priest’s wife had become a symbol of wantonness and defilement. The reason was that during this period the nature of the host consecrated at Mass received greater theological scrutiny. Medieval theologians were in the process of determining that bread and wine, at the moment of consecration in the hands of an ordained priest at the altar, truly became the body and blood of Jesus Christ. The priest who handled the body and blood of Christ should therefore be uncontaminated lest he defile the sacred corpus.

The priest’s wife was an obvious danger. Her wanton desire, suggested the 11th-century monk Peter Damian, threatened the efficacy of consecration. He chastised priests’ wives as “furious vipers who out of ardor of impatient lust decapitate Christ, the head of clerics,” with their lovers. According to the historian Dyan Elliott, priests’ wives were perceived as raping the altar, a perpetration not only of the priest but also of the whole Christian community.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. As Paul Moses writes on the Commonweal blog: "I wouldn’t have expected an argument like this from an academic historian; it takes the ascetic Peter Damian’s advocacy of clerical celibacy in the 11th century totally out of its historical context, and inserts it without qualification into a vastly different time." And the context, as always, is pretty darned important.

Phiip Hughes, in The Church in Crisis: A History of the General Councils, 325-1870 (Image, 1964), states that the "most flagrant, universally visible evils that afflicted religious life" at the time of the Council "were simony and clerical immorality." He outlines the problem in detail, noting that while priests in "the Latin church (though not in the East)" could not be married, many priests at the time were either living with concubines (or, in modern terms, "life partners" or "significant others"), or had "married" after receiving Holy Orders. This was, as we might imagine, quite scandalous, although some Catholics apparently accepted this sinful and illicit practice to be fairly normal. (Ah, for the good old days when Catholics were good Catholics!)

In this light, the disingenuousness employed by Ritchey is readily apparent. To say, as she does, "the priest’s wife had become a symbol of wantonness and defilement", is to misrepresent the fact that those wives, so to speak, should never have been married to the priests in question. Those priests, in other words, were the Alberto Cutiés of their day. This is why the Council, in its third canon, stated:

We absolutely forbid priests, deacons, and subdeacons to associate with concubines and women, or to live with women other than such as the Nicene Council (canon 3) for reasons of necessity permitted, namely, the mother, sister, or aunt, or any such person concerning whom no suspicion could arise.

I think most people with any basic understanding of Catholic teaching, vows, and morality will understand the problem: priests were committing the sin of fornication and living with women who were not their wives, and were thus rejecting the discipline of the Church, which they had freely accepted. (They, of course, did not cash in with a book deal, but their sins were big enough as they were.) That these sins were so strongly condemned might sound harsh and strange to our modern and ever-so-enlightened ears, but I suspect it has more to do with our society's widespread of acceptance of nearly any and every sexual sin, coupled with a disdain for anything resembling self-control, holiness, and obedience.

Ritchey's leaps of mispresentation grow even larger when she, in most bizarre fashion, writes that "Medieval theologians were in the process of determining that bread and wine, at the moment of consecration in the hands of an ordained priest at the altar, truly became the body and blood of Jesus Christ." Is she really saying that until the twelfth century, no one really believed that the Eucharist was the true Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ? Really? Quite the opposite: all Christians—Catholic, Orthodox, Ancient Oriental—accepted this belief; it was not even seriously questioned in the West until the decades immediately prior to the Protestant Revolution; it was never doubted in the East. At best, Ritchey is guilty of extreme sloppiness; at worse, she is guilty of embarrassing ignorance.

However, the most bizarre part of Ritchey's op-ed is how she tries to apply these historical lessons (wrongly obtained and falsely construed) to the situation of women married to Catholic priests today:

Given this history, I caution the clerical wife to be on guard as she enters her role as a sacerdotal attaché. Her position is an anomalous one and, as the Vatican has repeatedly insisted, one that will not receive permanent welcome in the church. That said, for the time being, it will be prudent for the Vatican to honor the dignity of the wives and children of its freshly ordained married priests. And here, I suggest, a real conversation about the continuation of priestly celibacy might begin.

Until then, priests’ wives should beware a religious tradition that views them, in the words of Damian, as “the clerics’ charmers, devil’s choice tidbits, expellers from paradise, virus of minds, sword of soul, wolfbane to drinkers, poison to companions, material of sinning, occasion of death ... the female chambers of the ancient enemy, of hoopoes, of screech owls, of night owls, of she-wolves, of blood suckers.”

Considering that St. Peter Damian (a Doctor of the Church, by the way), was referring to concubines and "wives", Ritchey's advice is both hollow and condescending. Does she think that most Catholics are so stupid as to not recognize the difference between a legimately married priest and one running around and sinning with a hussy? Does she, to return to my opening point, even consider that the wives of Catholic priests (of whatever rite) might, in fact, love their husbands and their vocation? And spare us the patronizing silliness about "a real conversation" about priestly celibacy; give us a call when you get your facts straight.

Finally, is it not strange that the Catholic Church is criticized and damned for allegedly not allowing married men to be priests, but that when it is finally recognized (to a flawed degree) that the Church, in fact, does allow for married priests, the Church is then criticized and damned for it? One would almost conclude that folks such as Ritchey have an axe to grind. One only wishes such critics would work as hard at sharpening their knowledge of both Church history and discipline.

Comments

[Matthew]

Para. beginning "Philip Hughes..." You say "married men could not be married". What do you mean? I'm sure it is a typo but can't figure out what might be the right reading.

[Carl E. Olson]

Matthew: Thanks for the catch! That should have been "priests could not be married..." (in the West). And, of course, those priests who were and are married in the East have to be married prior to ordination.

[Larry Coty]

Well, you are right that she is a pseudo-scholar; but you have misspelled her name throughout your article. Odd.

[Carl E. Olson]

Thanks, Larry. Sloppy, careless, an offense again "t"'s. Yes, yes, and maybe. But not odd.

[priest's wife]

Carl- Thanks for this thoughtful post...we priest's wives are trying to be holy and not hussy-like! ;) It is sad that a monk of the 12th century is taken as the Church's view now. yes- some people feel strongly against allowing married men to be ordained- even in the Eastern churches, but they are not informed and are in the minority.

[Tim Andries]

Wow, such blatant disregard for scholarly research much less the truth. I don't feel so bad about not having a college education....UL Lafayette is in my home town.

[Full Professor of Church History]

This essay by Ms. Ritchey is extraordinary in its ignorance of modern historical scholarship on the history of celibacy and the ancient Christian understanding of the body and chastity. It seems to be based on 50-year-old mostly Protestant confessional pseudo-history. I am really amazed that the University of Chicago could have produced a PhD as ignorant as this. Perhaps it is because her dissertation was on plant metaphors in medieval spiritual writing. What happened to actual historical study in history programs? I am ashamed of my discipline for producing people who write this sort of thing. Well before Conchini it has been widely known that celibacy was the canonical norm for clerics in the Latin Church, ever since the Council of Orange (441) and before, the Latin Church expected its clergy to be celibate. That the Gregorian Reform "imposed" celibacy is simply false, they were simply reinstating the old canons in force. And that this was done to "protect" Church money is a laughable idea: priests could alienate to brothers, nephews, etc. And the cherry-picking quotes from Gregorians about priest's wives is the most dishonest and vicious kind of scholarship.

The problem with this article is that pseudo-scholarship is being used to attack the modern Church for welcoming ex-Episcopalians. That makes this even more dishonest and vile. After the brutalization of orthodox Christians in the contemporary Episcopal denomination, to try to destroy the marriages of those episcopal ministers seeking a place in the Catholic Church is not just vile, it is evil.

[Charles E Flynn]

Perhaps the New York Times put a lot of effort into finding an author that would serve its editorial purposes.

As for the "leading contender"status, the year is young.

[Clea]

"But in the midst of these debates, we should pause to ponder the environment that the priests’ wives might expect to encounter..."

Well, in our parish, she got some casseroles, and I believe there was a little cocktail hour to welcome them in the church basement.

More NYT drivel.

[Sam]

Notice how Ritchey does not even consider the possibility that there might have been practical grounds for imposing the discipline of clerical celibacy. Indeed, the thought doesn't even seem to have crossed her mind. Imagine that, a huge transition to clerical celibacy is effected and it doesn't cross her mind that it might have been for a reason other than generic sexual repression. So, instead of thinking about what she is writing, she simply parrots the propaganda of the sexual revolution, propaganda which states that the historical norm up until Kinsey was that sex is evil and dirty. This baseless narrative is then projected backward onto the medieval Church. The problem with modern media is that our "educated" classes really only know how to think in liberal cliches. And because of their ideological blindness and arrogance, they will never realize how profoundly narrow and limited their intellectual horizons really are.

[Peter l]

It would seem Ritchey wil need to go back to college again,well done guys.

These priest's and their wives would be welcomed with open arms in my parish also,welcome home.

[morrie]

Sam, Well said!

[Phil]

Herbert Bayer Swope, the inventor of the op-ed defined it thus,

"It occurred to me that nothing is more interesting than opinion when opinion is interesting, so I devised a method of cleaning off the page opposite the editorial, which became the most important in America … and thereon I decided to print opinions, ignoring facts."[3].

It should come as no surprise, therefore, that writers "with an axe to grind" should resort to the op-ed as their forum; there is no demand for substantiation.

What is ultimately sad and immanently regrettable is that those who attack the Church and its Christ unashamedly attack the God of both. That they do so without conscience is one thing; such is the product of our defiant, secular age. But, that they do so without even attempting to understand the message of our salvation and the human transformation to which it beckons is entirely reprehensible.

People mock what they do not understand. They don't understand because they do not seek. They do not seek lest they find, for in finding they may be required to reform.

[lee faber]

The Dyan Elliot reference was telling. I had to read her in a graduate history seminar and found her to be largely shaping facts to fit idealogy. One example. She talked about how bad the inquisition was for women (think witches), and linked this to official attitudes because the scholastic theologians used the "quaestio" format. The quaestio format was linked to the inquisition's "putting the question" and so we were off to the races on the evils of the scholastics. No mention was made of the fact that both the scholastic questio and inquisititorial features had their origins in roman legal practices.

[Linus]

Now you know why I don't read newspapers, that's what we have you for. Really though, is there bigotry more henious than the bigotry of the secular media, any bigotry more inane than that of leading defenders and spokes persons of the Dictatorship of Moral Relativism?

[Chardin]

"psuedo-scholarship"? Isn't that being a bit generous? I'm all for charity, but even thats a stretch.

[Sam]

And, again, the article wasn't even about its alleged subject matter; the topic of married priests was clearly just a pretext so that Ritchie could launch into a screed about the evils of Catholic sexual morality. One gets the impression that, had the NYT had asked Ritchie to write an article about the kinds of bricks used in St. Patrick's Cathedral, she would have found an excuse to turn it into a running commentary on the evils of Church Patriarchy or "Heteronormativity" or some other hobby horse of the political left. The sheer predictability and monomania of NYT reporting would be hilarious if it weren't so mendacious and malign.

[Michael Carper]

Ritchey's right, in a loose, unintended sort of way. Priestly concubines don't get very good reception these days.

[Sandra Miesel]

Having Dyan Elliott as a thesis advisor proved to be a most unfortunate experience for me but in fairness, I must say that her first book, SPIRITUAL MARRIAGE, was excellent.

Going back to the centuries after Rome's fall in the West, when some priests were legitimately married, being a priest's wife wasn't such a happy situation, in that a married man could receive Holy Orders without his wife's knowledge or consent. This imposed lifelong continence on her, even if she were widowed. Meanwhile, she wasn't allowed to do much in the parish either. Those fiery Early Medieval denunciations of wicked clerical wives are at least partly condemnation of common failure to observe the marital continence rule.

[BHG]

WEll done. Now rewrite it for the NYT and ask (demand,stomp your feet in a tantrum if you have to) a counterpoint op-ed!

[craig]

Great post, Carl, a few thoughts come to mind though.

I think there is historical and canon law justification for using the term “Roman Catholic Church.” In fact, there are many instances where that is probably the best term to use if one is thinking specifically of the Roman Catholic Church and not one of the 22 Eastern Catholic Churches that are in Communion with Rome such as the Ukrainian Catholic Church, for example. I think Ritchey meant Roman Catholic and that’s probably why she wrote it. And, yes, while 22 of the 23 Sui Juris Catholic Churches have a married clergy, in practice, probably less than 3% of the total Catholic clergy worldwide are married…probably less than 1% in the U.S. (counting both Roman Catholic priests (converts) and Eastern Catholic priests).

And, while I do not endorse the tone or the error-laced substance of the NY Times op-ed piece you referred to, I think we can all admit the fact, without passing any judgments, that the majority of American Roman Catholics are not comfortable with a married clergy. Lack of familiarity is one reason: there are still only a very small number of Roman Catholic priests who are married (I think they are all converts from the Anglican Church or Lutheranism). Another reason is that there are still some theologians who seem to view priestly celibacy as a theological point and not merely a matter of discipline. I know several Roman Catholics who, while they acknowledge that there can be married priests, view celibacy as the better, more moral, or superior life for a priest. I have also recently had a conversation with a Roman Catholic lay person who informed me that the only reason it is ok for there to be married Roman Catholic priests (converts) is because "the “Vatican” does not allow married Roman Catholic priests to have sex with their wives"! When they said "Vatican" I think they meant Church Law because various canon laws were cited to me to that effect, which I have not read myself. Whether there are any Church laws like this or not--the existence of such attitudes among lay Roman Catholics does give the impression of a lack of comfort and familiarity with a married clergy.

--just my $0.02--my impressions may be wrong.

[JEM]

Sadly, the erroneous info appears in the New York times, which well get a lot more readership than this blog. And also sadly, bending history to fit a political agenda is not an uncommon practice.

[Jack]

How would life be like for a married Roman Catholic priest's wife?

Probably nearly the same as for an Orthdox pries's wife.

[Will Linden]

Chesterton's "What Do They Think?" is also cogent.

Face it. If someone in the Catholic hierarchy (or a Republican) announced that two and two is four, there would be a chorus insisting that it was five.