Some thinking about the role of the laity
4 October 2003

Some wonderfully thoughtful posts and comments have been appearing lately on A Religion of Sanity. The crux of the discussion is the question of authority and dissent: what is the proper way for Catholics to relate to their priests and bishops when they believe that these priests and bishops are not following the historic teaching of the Church? Is there something wrong with those who criticize their own (or other) bishops in the name of orthodoxy, while at the same time condemning “dissenters”? The author, Maureen McHugh, seems to think so:

I am truly sorry. I had such hope…
but the conservatives’ meeting with the bishops is the straw that broke this camel’s back. Try as I might, I just can’t wrap my mind around it. It’s gotten to the point now where I would need a scorecard to tell the ‘restorers’ from the ‘reformers’. Both sides seem intend on having the Church on their terms or else!
I am no expert on the state of the Church. My training is in history, so that I feel I can offer, if anything at all, a historical perspective on the question. From my reading and my own research, I have gained some perspective on what the position of the laity has been in the history of the Catholic Church in the West.

When Scripture speaks of the Church as the Body of Christ, the term does not refer only to the ordained ministry, but to all the faithful as a whole. The purpose of the ordained ministry is to give shape and structure to that body, but not to constitute it. The work of the Church in the world, in evangelization, in service, in bringing glory to God through human endeavor, is the work of the faithful, not as carrying out the orders of priests and bishops, but acting under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, given to each of the faithful through Baptism, and guided by a well-formed conscience. The well-formed Catholic conscience could be, and at times has been, a powerful force for bringing more of the world into the Kingdom of God. The formation of that conscience is part of the task of the ordained ministry, not their only task, and not exclusively their task—but the bishops are called to be guardians of the deposit of faith and moral formation that must undergird the conscience of the Christian in order that he may be effective in the service of God in the world.

Maureen McHugh cites a very moving essay by Mary Ann Glendon from First Things (October 2002)  to this effect called The Hour of the Laity.  Professor Glendon’s point, in part, is that the real role of the laity is not service in ecclesiastical matters, but in extending the reign of God in the world, an apostolate that has been largely forgotten in a focus on “lay ministry.” When I worked at Servant Books, I helped edit a work (now unfortunately out of print), a collection of essays by Representative Henry Hyde called For Every Idle Silence that is one of the few expressions of this notion I have seen by a politician.

That being said, it is still the case that the Holy Spirit may also lead lay people to act for the renewal of the Church. I once stated (overstated, but not by much) that all movements of spiritual renewal were started by lay people, and all heresies were started by clerics. I can only think of one or two major heretical movements of substantially lay inspiration (Waldensianism and Modernism); while Arius, Nestorius, Eutyches, Pelagius, Wyclif, and Luther—to name a few—were all clerics. On the other hand, St. Anthony of Egypt was a layman when he became the first great leader of the ascetic movement, and was never ordained; St. Francis was a layman when he began his brotherhood of Friars Minor, and was never a priest, although he was ordained a deacon; St. Ignatius Loyola, while technically a cleric, was living as a layman when he was called to found the Society of Jesus. At other times, groups of lay people have aided in the renewal of the Church: such was the case in the Catholic Reformation (see O’Malley, The First Jesuits; Chatellier, L’Europe des Dévôts). At the time of the Gregorian reform, lay confraternities in Italian cities aided the efforts of the Popes to reform the corrupt lives of the clergy, often opposing their own bishops (who were also often their secular overlords).

My own research (back in the days when I was a scholar) dealt with lay religious life in the parish in the late fifteenth and early sixteenth century. What I found by analyzing the records of one parish was that lay people had a substantial role in the administration of the parish, and even in determining much of its devotional life. My studies concerned Liège in present-day Belgium, but institutions and patterns similar to those I studied existed elsewhere. Laymen did not attempt to take over the role of the clergy, but what priests and religious were doing was very often a response to the desires of the laity.

During the Middle Ages, up to the full implementation of the Catholic Reformation, the roles of various groups within the institutional Church were rather different from what we imagine today. While there were always some learned and holy bishops who interested themselves in the spiritual life of their dioceses, they were not typical of the medieval hierarchy. Even fewer, relative to their total number, appear to have been parish priests who engaged in actual preaching. Sermons were few, and were usually given by monks or friars hired especially for the purpose. It was in the convents and monasteries that the devout found most of their spiritual sustenance. Even the parish leaders I studied, while they had an active devotional life in their parish centering around Masses celebrated by the parish clergy, when they wanted preaching, brought in the Dominicans and the Carmelites from the neighborhood convents, and when they wanted a special Salve Regina service sung every week, hired the choir from the Collegiate Church of St. Paul.

After the early heroes St. Lambert and St. Hubert, bishops of Liège (who were also secular princes after the millennium) were not known for their spirituality. The best of them were great builders and administrators; the worst—well, there’s a reason the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries were a period of almost continuous revolt and civil war in Liège. But when the citizens of Liège marched to war against their bishops, it was under the banner of the Virgin Mary and St. Lambert. Many of these bishops, like John “the Pitiless” were more familiar with sex and violence than with the sacraments; some never bothered to get ordained. And the valley of the Meuse was not untypical of medieval Europe. Do we sometimes think we have it bad now? That was supposed to be the Golden Age of Western Christendom.

Some argue think that examples like these, or the 10th-century Popes, or egregious examples like Alexander VI, paterfamilias of the Borgias, place in doubt the supernatural character of the Church. On the contrary, I believe, they demonstrate it. What institution of purely human character could survive such leaders? The Church has renewed herself and flourished because the Holy Spirit is not the exclusive possession of the hierarchy. The Church has been there to be renewed because the charism of the ordained is greater than their personal character. Bishops can be wrong; indeed lots of them have been; but though they drag the precious jewel of the grace of orders through the mud, it is still a jewel, and rinsed clean, will shine once again.

The Church is not a democracy. It is a monarchy, an absolute monarchy, but the monarch is not the Pope. The monarch is the Lord Jesus Christ, the Consubstantial Son of God, Who died to redeem her, rose for her sanctification, and is now enthroned at the right hand of the Father, uniting her to Himself by the gift of the Holy Spirit. At one and the same time, He has set some in positions of authority—but not with their own authority, only His—and has given the grace of that same Holy Spirit to all who are baptized. Those who are the lay faithful should respect the ordained not because they themselves are inferior to them, but because all, clergy and laity alike, serve the same Lord.

Any disagreement with priests or bishops should be approached in this spirit. It’s not my Church; it’s not my pastor’s Church; it’s not even the bishop’s Church or the Pope’s Church: it’s His Church, the Church of Jesus Christ. We may need to disagree with a priest or a bishop; but our primary duty is to Christ: to form our hearts and minds with His Word, to nourish our souls with His Sacraments. Imagine a whole parish, each member of which puts Christ first in his life, and is actively striving to form his life according to the will of God. Could error or impiety get very far in such a setting, even dressed in a Roman collar? I think not. That is one reason the Holy Father has commended the many ecclesial movements. They exist for the sanctification of the faithful, and a sanctified Church will produce holy leaders. It might be necessary, and likely would be desirable, to seek out these movements if your parish does not afford the opportunities for formation in faith and holiness, as our forebears sought out the monks and friars (not that there aren’t many holy monks and friars around today, too; each age adds richness to the Church and does not remove that which was there before). If the leaders of the Church seem too willing to bend to the secular culture, is that not perhaps because those they lead are indifferent to their Christian commitment 167 hours out of 168 each week? One family, two families, a growing circle of families of full-time Catholics could begin a movement of their own.

I have an easy time of it, I must admit, because I am already in a parish rather like that, which is itself the outgrowth of a movement (Charismatic Renewal). But I pray that it may happen elsewhere.