though our minds have not changed much at all.
At least we know now that all the forced celibacy in the world can’t make a bad man a good priest. That much is made clear in the daily headlines. There is nothing we can do to make one another “men of God” because virginity and priesthood aren’t ours to give, take, or demand of one another. Taking the love of God in vain like that not only strips virginity of its divine intent and creative powers, but it devalues profoundly the loving experience celibacy is for those to whom it is God-given. We can see that clearly, too. The whole world looks at celibacy in the Catholic Church now and can hardly contain its laughter, or its soulful sadness. The oldest and most sacred tradition in religious life has become a big joke, and we’re beginning to see why.
The world Christianity was born into is not unlike the world we live in. Most of our world is male dominated, as it was then, and still violent, as it was then. The status of women and children in many parts of the world remains less than that of cattle, and the practice of slavery is nowhere near as gone as we may think it is. Even in the best of worlds, human life, not to mention all life, isnot treated as sacred, even in the United States. The poor and outcast are not only still with us, but they remain just as despised and ignored, if not more so. The world we live in is very similar in thinking to that in which Christ was born. In many parts of our world, religion remains the major source of division, war, oppression, and abuse. The cradle of civilization and the birthplace of Christ are the world’s bloodiest battlefields. Who is that God? For all that can be said truly of monumental human progress throughout history, we are not that well developed as human beings. In the name of all our gods put together, the whole world should know better.
The priesthood that Jesus brought into this world appears just as divinely fitting and troublesome now as it did in the beginning. In looking at the Gospels for insight into the priesthood of Jesus, it’s important to keep in mind that the Christian Scriptures are not eyewitness accounts or transcripts of the life and times of Jesus Christ. The stories as we read them were written nearly a hundred years after Jesus’ death and resurrection—one hundred years of stories and oral traditions being passed from disciple to disciple, community to community, town to town, and generation to generation. That’s a long time to keep the original story straight, not to mention its divine intent. (It reminds me of the biblical version of the children’s game Chinese Telephone.) Even so, the fragments that survived the years, through all of its translations, contain, as we Christians believe, all we need to know. Somehow the Word of God can still be revealed there by those who know how to listen, by those who know how to pray.
Not only do the Gospels reflect historical issues that were of divine importance in the early Christian community, but they also served as a source of daily inspiration and strength. In the beginning, the Gospels were the daily bread of the priesthood. Because Jesus lived those stories, there’s a very real sense inwhich his Holy Spirit becomes present in the telling of them—especially when the community gathers around the table at the end of the day and shares stories of what happened. What miraculous events they witnessed. The crowds that followed and what moved them. Even what trouble they caused. All of which would have reminded them of Jesus. Disciples speak of actually feeling the warmth of his presence as though Jesus was right there with them. That happened frequently after the resurrection, where they say it “felt as though their hearts were burning inside them” (Luke 24:32). It reminds me of a line in one of Rilke’s poems, “Imagining you my being burns more brightly.” That’s how real divine power is in the Word of God, and that’s where