Like most Catholics, I first confessed my sins to a priest when I was in elementary school. Some 20 boys and girls were packed into an empty church while our stern religious education teacher sent us to the back of the church, one by one, to face two doors. One for the grated, closed confessional booth of movie fame and the other for the open confessional, where one sat face to face with their confessor.
I was cynical enough at that tender age to realize that the priest would easily recognize our voices through the closed screen. I chose the open confessional, perhaps in the hope of gaining some kind of divine brownie points. I was not yet cynical enough to think of what any modern American catholic would think of a young boy and a priest locked together in a small room. I should note that our local priest is one of the most decent men I know, and is truly a pastor who spends more time caring for his community than worrying about dogma.
As the only student who chose the open confessional, my pluck must have impressed him, or my over-prepared litany of sins (I hit my sister, I talked back to a teacher, and so on), but I remember him leaning forward and telling me that perhaps I should consider the calling of the priesthood. Though I’ve never seriously considered pursuing a life in the church-I’m neither pious, obedient nor likely to be chaste-the moment stuck in my head.
Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger was chosen to be the 265th Catholic Pope last Tuesday. A loyal companion to the last Pope, John Paul II, Ratzinger holds the same strict views on homosexuality, birth control and the role of women as his predecessor. He is a theologian above all and the man who led The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the Vatican organ that suppresses heresy and silences clergymen who did not toe the line of orthodoxy.
Today, I do not toe the line on orthodoxy. In a debate at Georgetown, I spoke out against some of the dogma of the Catholic Church regarding women’s issues, the condemnation of other faiths and homosexuality, and lamented that, despite my Catholic faith and my appreciation for the teachings of Jesus, I could not support church doctrine. The next speaker, a more conservative Catholic, fiercely disputed my remarks and said that I might as well convert to Lutheranism. He was right. If it’s Jesus you’re interested in, become a Protestant.
Being a member of the Roman Catholic Church is no longer about faith in Jesus Christ or belief in a Judeo-Christian heritage that began with Abraham and ends with the letters of Paul. Being a member of the Catholic church means being a part of a tradition that begins with the theologians of antiquity like Tertullian, who called women the “devil’s gateway,” through centuries of corrupt and evil papacies that has barely made up for their deficiencies and still maintains others even today.
This is not to say theology or interpretation is wrong, but it is by definition human. It was a sad day in the Church when the Pope’s remarks became infallible at his discretion, but our new Pope has written that Catholics “must accept not only the infallible magisterium. They are to give the religious submission of intellect and will … even if [the Church] do[es] not intend to proclaim it with a definitive act.” That is to say, intellectual debate and freedom of conscience will not be tolerated. This is not quite in line with the Jesuit ideal.
Now, the Catholic Church is growing farther away from the majority of its faithful and is coming under attack. Traditionally Catholic countries like Spain and Italy support some of the most liberal policies on contraception and homosexuality. In Africa and South America, where the Church is growing at its fastest rate, churchmen are more concerned with providing for their impoverished flocks than enforcing doctrine. Reform groups in the United States and around the world agitate for the ordination of women, for allowing priests to marry and for the acceptance of homosexuality. The Church has been wracked with scandal here and around the world.
It would be naive and idealistic to suggest that any changes could or would occur overnight, or even in the next few decades. Before the convocation, however, some churchmen noted their preference for a more “pastoral” Holy Father. By pastoral, they meant a Pope rooted in the lives of the faithful, not the doctrine of the Vatican. If the church wants to be relevant in the lives of its worshippers, it needs to begin discussing its priorities. It must decide between the teachings of Jesus and 2,000 years worth of human elaboration.
My childhood priest was glad when he heard that I came to Georgetown because, after all, we are a Catholic school. Though coming here has pushed me away from the Church, I hope that those of us who subscribe to the idea of a Catholic identity understand that we are all approaching two doors. One where we hide behind a screen of dogma, and another where we engage our religion directly, questioning and changing whenver necessary. Let us be brave, or at least cynical, and choose the second.
