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Last week I had a discussion with a friend who
is the pastor of a large parish in one of
the more exclusive towns of this diocese.
Sometime after
supper, the conversation turned to priests’salaries. Priests can be seen
as professional in that we have undergone extensive studies and
training. If that be so, which it is, then
the next question might logically be, “Why don’t priests receive
salaries akin to other professions?” If the response to
that is affirmative, which it tends more and more to
be, then my initial response to the first question is:
No!
That is not to denigrate the priesthood, but to insist
on a distinction concerning the nature and goals of the
priesthood, as compared to the nature and goals of a
medical doctor, a lawyer, an architect or a professor, for
example, the training involved in each career, and the resultant
or respective pay scales. One might respond that we
perform tasks and services that others cannot, such as the
celebration of Mass and the Sacraments, and, so are professionals.
But our seminary training and education does not empower us
to offer the Mass or to celebrate the Sacraments. Nor
are we to charge fees for those services, other than
a small stipend. Of course, one would not be ordained
unless having satisfied the academic and canonical requirements. But we
are not professionals because of our training: we can work
as priests only because of the free gift and grace
of the Sacrament of Holy Orders, not because we are
professionally educated. Once that reality is overlooked, in favor of
a professionalism stemming from training, then the discussions invariably turn
to salaries and amenities attendant upon other professional lives and
practices.
The Lutheran chaplain of the local city hospital telephoned me
to express her frustration in her attempts to secure a
Catholic priest as chaplain in the hospital. The diocese
repeats its difficulty in finding a diocesan priest, and the
chaplain told me she had found two priests from outside
the diocese, but both had changed their minds once each
had secured a hospital chaplancies with higher salaries. Some local
pastors have told her to stop bothering them, since they
are already too busy to attend to the hospital.
The
unhappy history of the Church regarding absenteeism of priests and
bishops, pluralism of parishes and dioceses for the financial benefit
of priests and bishops of the Middle Ages and later
should have taught us something about the evils attendant upon
treating the priesthood as a livelihood with built-in fees and
perks, or as a profession by which priests lead lifestyles
similar to those of professionals or persons of influence. The
problem of money and clergy was not only during the
Middle Ages; it is a real problem for today’s Church
in this country, as well.
Many of us live in
exclusive communities, and enjoy a social prestige that we might
not otherwise have attained unless we were priests. A lawyer,
doctor, architect or professor needs to work hard to establish
a practice or obtain tenure. Priests do not. The dignity
of the priesthood is that which gives us the lives
and social positions of respect so many of us enjoy:
not our training, years of education or even our particular
expertise, but grace. The point is that neither priests nor
bishops should continue to sell priests short by denigrating the
priesthood, comparing it to professional careers in other areas of
our society. If priests bear an indelible mark, then we
cannot be thrown away or replaced by someone holding a
theological degree, or possessing a certain marketable expertise; or even
for our failings. One of the reasons why there is
a priest shortage in this country is because young men
want to be challenged and make a sacrifice. Tell them
that they’ll have a very comfortable life, and the smart
ones will simply go to the corporate world, while the
less desirable might seek admission to Holy Orders as a
means of acquiring social prestige and a secure, comfortable life
with little heavy lifting.
“The gift you have received freely, give
freely,” I believe Someone once told His Apostles. Our Lord
also told the Twelve “the workman is worth his wage.”
Upscale salaries, medical benefits, additional vacation time and other amenities
were not part of the original commission to the first
priests, nor comfortable living quarters in upscale communities. None
of these is bad, but neither should these be insisted
upon or expected by today’s generation of priests.
Priests in
most American dioceses have the most secure existence on the
planet, in that from ordination to the grave we receive
a monthly salary and medical benefits, along with a roof
over our heads, food in the refrigerator and social status.
None of us pays mortgages, utilities rates, food bills or
property taxes, except for our automobiles. Many of us don’t
pay for our automobile, health or dental insurances. We don’t
pay for repairs, redecoration or furnishing of our rectories. So
what do we do with our rather generous salaries, Mass
stipends and monetary gifts? We enjoy more travel, more quality
restaurant time and more upscale entertainments than most laypersons. Some
of us own homes or sports vehicles. We do pay
for our clothes, our gas and car repairs, books and
sundry other personal expenses. But most of those, at least
those related to our ministry, are deductible from our income
tax.
Prescinding from issues raised in the present crisis in
the Church in our country, or individual priests who care
for aging or infirm parents or family members, the vast
majority of American diocesan priests are doing rather well, at
least financially. Some might disagree, and likely will.
Self-denial and sacrifice can be irksome to some. But self-sacrifice
is part of the work: it’s the Cross, you know.
How much Cross is there in any one of our
daily lives?
In the seminary training of the 1970’s that I
received, I was told, ad nauseam, that priests were servants;
while at the same time instructed that priests were, likewise,
to be vigilant about their own wellness and personal needs.
Two days off each week, three weeks of summer
vacation, one week of winter vacation, one week of retreat,
and one study week annually, we were told, was our
due, at least in my diocese. While we are servants
who should take care of our health and be attentive
to our personal needs, the result of this policy has
often led to a type of ministerial schizophrenia or simply
professional amnesia concerning the essence of the ministerial priesthood: the
personal needs of the priest take precedence over priestly service
and duty in many priest’s lives in the reality of
parish duty. There can be, likewise, a collateral effect in
the priest’s approach to celibacy, obedience and prayer: my personal
needs are now more important than my fidelity to the
promises I made at ordination.
Ultimately, we are called by Christ
to share His priesthood in order to extend His ministry
in every place and throughout each year until the Parousia.
From that point of view, one might insist on our
professionalism: but to me, that means, not higher salaries, but
a heightened vigilance on the part of priests and bishops
to greater giving, to greater charity, that we become more
Christ-like in our daily lives. We should be more
concerned for the well-being and salvation of the faithful, and
work more diligently that Christ’s triumph over sin and death
might be realized in our part of the vineyard, in
whichever field of ministry we are involved.
If we
don’t believe that the salvation promised by Our Lord is
made real through Christ’s priesthood by means of the daily
ministerial tasks of the parish priest, then we need new
jobs. An unhappiness in the priesthood stems from various causes.
One, I think, is the schizophrenia presently experienced by
priests in this country. We are expected to be “professional”
priests in our job, but our private lives are our
own. A priestly life must be, however, just that, an
entire life: I am to be a priest 24 hours
a day, seven days a week for the glory of
God and the salvation of souls. That means a certain
asceticism that is an essential part of my daily life,
in imitation of Christ. Many diocesan priests recoil at such
a notion, as one friend of mine did, responding repeatedly
that “We’re not religious!”
While diocesan priests are different from
religious order priests, that certainly does not mean that only
followers of Saint Francis, Saint Dominic or Saint Bruno should
lead ascetic lives. Asceticism is an innate and intrinsic part
the religious life of each Catholic, and of each priest.
Why are we celibate? Why are we asked to be
faithful to praying daily the Liturgy of the Hours? Why
are we pledged to obey a bishop? These all contribute
to a life of self-denial as penances for the salvation
of the world. Priests should, likewise, pray daily, fast
frequently and give to the poor, as should all Christians.
We should pray and be faithful to our promises even
on our days off or on vacation, because our lives
are pledged to be visible signs of Christ, to whom
we are conformed by the sacrament of Holy Orders. If
we only do these things occasionally, when we’re on duty,
then we fail the Church—we fail as professionals, if that
is what we are.
We are professionals if we dedicate
ourselves entirely to who we are: in persona Christi capitis:
preaching the Gospel in our words and by our daily
examples; and extending Christ’s victory over sin and death by
the Mass and Sacraments daily; offering our own personal sacrifice
by daily prayer and penances for others.
That still doesn’t
merit us higher salaries, nor should it, since we are
working for a higher reward in the eternal Kingdom of
Him to whom we are pledged in love. We are
merely instruments of Christ who exercises His priesthood through us
in the Church. Since that is the case, in order
to be better professionals, we should be sure that we
are leading priestly lives.
Since Jesus the High Priest
is doing the real work, maybe He should have the
higher salary!
Rev. Msgr. Stephen M. DiGiovanni, H.E.D. is pastor of
Saint John the Evangelist Parish in Stamford, Connecticut, U.S.A. |