Justine McCarthy of the Irish Times was first out of the blocks, with the late Pope Francis barely having arrived at room temperature before her article assessing his legacy was published. He was, apparently, a good man with a blind spot when it came to women. Her piece took a while to get there, but the central point was always coming:
It is fine rhetoric to commend women as the best thing since sliced bread, but it rings hollow in the ears of those having to cope with bans on contraception, abortion, IVF and surrogacy, being made to feel inferior by institutional discrimination, and being told they should be grateful for the odd morsel of acknowledgment that they exist.
And there you have it, really: Francis might have been a good Pope, but the liberal dream for the Roman Catholic Church is that it cease being Catholic at all when it comes to “bans on contraception, abortion, IVF, and surrogacy”. That is what it is all about, for Justine – and for many like her. And in fairness, they are upfront about it. They wish to change the Church’s teachings because the Church is an obstacle to implementing their beliefs. For many more liberals than who might dare to admit it openly, getting rid of the Church entirely and replacing it with the kind of new-age spirituality you find in many feminist movements would be a political win-win.
But what about those inside the Church, who wish for the same thing? I confess, those are the people whose existence befuddles, bemuses, and perplexes me. As it must, I imagine, a great many believing Catholics.
The liberals outside it, I understand perfectly: They just want an ideological opponent off the pitch.
The liberal Catholic, though? The Priest who thinks that they could bring more people into the house of God by changing what God says about various moral issues? Endlessly baffling. When you think about it, it amounts to believing in an infallible and perfect God, but arguing endlessly with him that he’s wrong.
One such Priest took to the Irish Times yesterday. The easiest way to know that Father Brendan Hoban is a liberal Catholic Priest is that he was published by the Irish Times. Another way to tell that he is a liberal Catholic Priest is that you’ll find a surprising number of photographs of him – like Father Brian D’Arcy, pictured above – not wearing a collar. The final way to know is to read what he wrote, in praise of the late Pope:
Suddenly the great unmentionables were no longer off the agenda. These included the ordination of women; mandatory celibacy for priests; acceptance of the LGBTQ+ community; the idea that priests who have left the active ministry be invited to return; access to Communion for those in non-traditional marital situations; problematic aspects of Catholic sexual morality, and others.
Francis – by way of a comment here and a hint there – sent “smoke signals” to indicate a significant change from the John Paul/Benedict era. When he was asked about the Church’s position on LGBTQ+ people, he responded with another question: “Who am I to judge?”
My simple question for people like Father Hoban – as a non-practicing Catholic – is this: Why are you a Priest? What is the point of your existence?
To be entirely clear, I share many of his critiques of Church teaching. I do not, as a secular, doubting-Thomas type of person, particularly understand the prohibition on extra-marital sex, nor do I believe in denying communion to the divorced, nor do I think Priestly celibacy has been an altogether helpful thing for the Church, or think that you honour God by eschewing Burgers on a Friday, but only a Friday. But then, I work in the media and keep my private life private. I do not stand on an Altar every Sunday as a spokesperson for an organisation whose most well-known teachings I appear to publicly differ from.
There are many Christian faiths that differ substantially from Catholicism on these questions. Want to be a married Priest? The Anglican Church believes 95% of the same things that the Roman Catholic Church does about the Christian God and Jesus Christ himself, and you can get married. You can also be a woman Priest. And, of course, the whole raison d’etre of the Anglican Church is that you can get divorced. That was the very reason for its foundation. Just go and become an Anglican. And do us the extra favour of taking Mary McAleese along with you.
Perhaps, on matters more doctrinal, you eschew the Latin Mass because you believe that religion should mirror the language of the people. Again: Most of Protestantism was built on this same idea. The Book of Common Prayer pre-dated Vatican II by literal centuries. You believe the Church should be less judgmental? Let me introduce you to the reformed protestant doctrine of “Salvation through faith alone”.
About the only reason I can fathom for remaining a Catholic Priest while fundamentally objecting to specifically Catholic Teachings on matters of sex, sexuality, and the sanctity of human life is that you genuinely believe in transubstantiation, and that the Catholic Church is the only Christian entity on earth that can bring you close to God. But what are the implications of that, logically, other than that Christ himself has favoured this church, and its teachings – the very teachings you oppose.
As a non-practicing Catholic who has, nevertheless, wrestled enough with faith in my life to know that these matters are challenging and difficult, I will say this: Roman Catholics, those who strive to practice and live their faith every day, deserve Priests and clergy who actually believe in the things that the Church teaches. If you believe those teachings must be changed, then you cannot, in my view, honestly call yourself a Catholic Priest.
And yet so many do. And so many of them – especially in Ireland, ranging from Father Hoban to Father Brian D’Arcy to Father Tony Flannery – make such a good media living off it that one wonders whether they have ever had time to ponder these questions at all.
One of my favourite religious quotes comes from, of all people, Al Pacino, in the movie The Devil’s Advocate, in which Pacino plays an enchantingly logical version of Lucifer. “Vanity”, says Pacino’s Satan, “is definitely my favourite sin”.