Forty years ago Pope Paul VI rejected the advice of two-thirds of the Papal Birth Control Commission, and issued an encyclical in which he reaffirmed the teaching of previous 20^th-century popes that every act of sexual intercourse within marriage must be open to the transmission of life. The use of any contraceptive device–pill, condom, or diaphragm–was still to be regarded as seriously sinful.

            The encyclical, issued on July 25, 1968, was entitled, Humanae vitae (“Of Human Life”).  The negative reaction was so severe and widespread within the Church (even national episcopal conferences greeted it without enthusiasm) that Paul VI vowed never to publish another encyclical, and he did not--for the remaining ten years of his pontificate.

            A Vatican official, Msgr. Ferdinando Lambruschini, made clear upon release of the encyclical that the teaching was not infallible, and he invited theologians and other specialists in the Church to discuss and debate it.

            In a column published immediately after that press conference, I wrote that “it is precisely in proclaiming the Gospel that the Pope fulfills his role as chief shepherd and holy father.  If the proclamation is genuinely evangelical, the Holy Spirit will see to the echo throughout the whole Church; if it is not, [the Holy Spirit] will see to the static” (8/9/68).

            “On the birth control issue,” the column pointed out, “the Pope’s present position does not seem to reflect the consensus of the Church, and static fills the air.  The encyclical is at odds with the conclusions of the overwhelming majority of the Pope’s own commission of experts, the public resolutions of the Third World Lay Congress in Rome, the majority of Catholic moral theologians, the consciences of many Catholic married couples, and the pastoral and theological judgments of the large majority of non-Catholic Christian churches which participate in the life of the Body of Christ and in his Spirit.”

            “If the teaching of Humanae vitae is faithful to the authentic tradition of the Gospel,” the column continued, “it will eventually produce a consensus of approval throughout the whole Church.  If not, it will take its place with past authoritative statements on religious liberty, interest-taking, the right to silence, and the ends of marriage.” 

            After four decades, it is clear that the teaching has still not been widely received by those to whom it was originally directed, namely, Catholic married couples of child-bearing age.

            A column written on the fifteenth anniversary of the encyclical remarked on the polarization of views that had developed since 1968.  “Minds were long since made up and lines boldly drawn” (9/9/83). 

            At the same time, the column recalled the “underlying pastoral sensitivity” of the encyclical.  Paul VI had acknowledged that his teaching would pose serious difficulties for many married couples, but he urged them to continue to draw strength from the Eucharist and never to be discouraged, or feel themselves cut off from the Church.

            He also urged priests to exercise “patience and goodness,” following the example of Christ himself, who was always “merciful toward individuals.”

            The column concluded: “Let critics of the encyclical reread it now with a more sympathetic heart, even if they continue to disagree with its central point, and let its strongest defenders reread it in light of the same Holy Father’s Populorum progressio (1967), Octogesima adveniens (1971), and Evangelii nuntiandi (1974), and indeed the whole of the Church’s recent teachings on justice, human rights and peace.”

            A column marking the encyclical’s twenty-fifth anniversary reminded readers that Pope Paul VI himself, in a letter to the Congress of German Catholics, had welcomed “the lively debate aroused by our encyclical” and had expressed the hope that the debate would “lead to a better knowledge of God’s will.”

            Unfortunately, that debate was never allowed to mature in the next pontificate, notwithstanding an unsuccessful attempt at the 1980 Synod of Bishops on the family. 

            Cardinal Basil Hume of England noted that many married couples “cannot accept that the use of artificial means of contraception in some circumstances is intrinsically disordered.”  Their difficulties with the teaching, he said, should not be written off as a sign of frailty and weakness.

            Archbishop John Quinn of San Francisco agreed with Cardinal Hume, and warned that the issue would not be resolved “merely by a simple reiteration of past formulations or by ignoring the fact of dissent.”

            In an article in America magazine (7/17/93), Jesuit Richard McCormick wrote that the prohibition of any serious discussion of the encyclical had led to “a debilitating malaise that has undermined the credibility of the magisterium in other areas.”

            Is the situation any different today, on the fortieth anniversary?

This essay is provided by the Fellowship of Southern Illinois Laity.  Please share it with a friend.  We welcome your comments and contributions.  Let us know if you wish to be added to our mailing list.  Our new website that includes these essays and Roger Karban’s commentaries on the Sunday Scripture readings is www.fosilonline.com.   

Fellowship of Southern Illinois Laity,

07/14/08

"A Third Bishop Robinson"

ESSAYS IN THEOLOGY

By Rev. Richard P. McBrien

            There have been three Bishop Robinsons who have attracted some measure of notoriety in recent decades, not only within the worldwide Church but in the secular media as well.  

            The first of the three controversial Bishop Robinsons was John A. T., the Anglican suffragan bishop of Woolwich in south London, a respected New Testament scholar, and the author of Honest to God (1963), the first work of popular theology to sell over a million copies and to be translated into several languages.  He died in 1983.

            Bishop John A. T. Robinson, however, was perhaps best known for having appeared in a British court in 1960 to defend the publisher of D. H. Lawrence’s novel, Lady Chatterly’s Lover, against a charge that the book violated England’s Obscene Publications Act.  The court ruled in favor of the publisher.

            The second of the three Bishop Robinsons is V. Gene, who became the first openly partnered gay bishop in the Anglican Communion.  He was consecrated in November of 2003 in the teeth of vehement opposition within The Episcopal Church (the favorable vote in the House of Bishops was 62-43, with two abstentions) and the worldwide Anglican Communion, especially in parts of Africa and South America. 

            Gene Robinson assumed office as the bishop of New Hampshire the following March, but the negative effects of his ordination continue to be felt within The Episcopal Church in the United States and throughout the Anglican Communion more than four years later.

            The third of the three Bishop Robinsons is Geoffrey, the now-retired Roman Catholic auxiliary bishop in the archdiocese of Sydney, Australia, and the author of a controversial new book, Confronting Power and Sex in the Catholic Church, which became an immediate best-seller in his native Australia and has since been published in the United States by Liturgical Press in Collegeville, Minnesota.

            Bishop Geoffrey Robinson served from 1994 until 2003 as an elected member and later as co-chair of the Australian bishops’ National Committee for Professional Standards, which coordinated the response of the Catholic Church in Australia to the sexual-abuse crisis in the priesthood.

            He submitted his resignation as auxiliary bishop in 2004, before he had reached retirement age, because of his disillusionment with the manner in which the Church had responded to the sexual-abuse scandal.  He accused church authorities, including Pope John Paul II, of failing to deal forthrightly with this global problem, referring to it as “one of the ugliest stories ever to emerge from the Catholic Church.”

            After the book’s publication beyond Australia earlier this year, Bishop Robinson embarked on a lecture tour that provoked even more controversy and, in the process, undoubtedly increased the sales of his book.

            A front-page story in The Boston Globe was headlined: “Defying hierarchy, bishop urges change” (05/31/08).  The article, by the Globe’s expert on religious matters, Michael Paulson, reported on the bishop’s appearance before a crowd of about 550 at a suburban parish in Dedham, Massachusetts. 

            According to Bishop Robinson, it was the largest audience that he had drawn to date on his U.S. speaking tour.  The night before  110 had attended his lecture at the Paulist Center in downtown Boston.

            The article also noted that Bishop Robinson is “under investigation” by the Australian Bishops Conference for allegedly questioning “the authority of the Catholic Church to teach the truth definitively.”

            Cardinal Roger Mahony, archbishop of Los Angeles, had  informed Bishop Robinson by letter that he was denying him permission to speak in the archdiocese under the terms of canon 763 of the Catholic Church’s Code of Canon Law.  The canon stipulates that, while “bishops have the right to preach the word of God everywhere,” the local bishop can refuse this right “in particular cases.”  Other California bishops have supported the Cardinal’s action.

            Whenever Bishop Robinson has been prohibited from speaking in Catholic venues, he has lectured in non-Catholic churches, community centers, hotels, and secular universities.  He did speak at Fairfield University in Connecticut, a Jesuit institution.

            This week’s column does not offer a formal review of Bishop Robinson’s new book.  I am constrained from doing so because the review that I have already written for Theological Studies will not appear until its September issue.

            The Globe article reports that every copy of the book was sold after the bishop’s talk in Dedham.  In my opinion, however, it is more likely to be his personal witness rather than his book that will have the greater, longer-lasting impact on the discussion that he evidently hopes to generate.

            Church authorities would be ill-advised to make too much of an issue of the book.  Suffice it to say, there is much room for improvement.

This essay is provided by the Fellowship of Southern Illinois Laity.  Please share it with a friend.  We welcome your comments and contributions.  Let us know if you wish to be added to our mailing list.  Our new website that includes these essays and Roger Karban’s commentaries on the Sunday Scripture readings is www.fosilonline.com.   

Fellowship of Southern Illinois Laity,

"Mystici Corporis Christi: After 65 Years"

ESSAYS IN THEOLOGY

By Rev. Richard P. McBrien

            In late June 1943, in the teeth of the Second World War, Pope Pius XII issued the most important 20^th-century document on the Church prior to the Second Vatican Council (1962-65), namely, his encyclical letter on the Mystical Body of Christ (Mystici Corporis Christi).  We observed its 65^th anniversary less than two weeks ago.

            Although Pius XII became an especially controversial figure after his death in 1958 because of his allegedly passive role during the Holocaust, he did open Catholic theology to the fruits of modern biblical scholarship with another encyclical published later the same year, Divino afflante Spiritu (“Inspired by the Holy Spirit”), which Catholic biblical scholars embraced with enthusiasm.  And in 1947 his encyclical Mediator Dei (“Mediator of God”) prepared the way for the liturgical renewal and reforms promoted by Vatican II.

            Mystici Corporis, however, represented the most significant shift in ecclesiology (the theological understanding of the nature and mission of the Church) since the Counter-Reformation of the late-16^th and early-17^th centuries.

            For perhaps the first time in modern church history, a pope rooted his teaching on the Church in Scripture, especially the writings of St. Paul on the Church as the Body of Christ.  The encyclical did qualify the expression with the non-Pauline adjective “mystical,” but only to distinguish the ecclesial Body of Christ from the Eucharist and from his earthly, risen, and glorified bodies.

            Although a residue of juridical and legalistic thinking still permeated the encyclical, it nonetheless marked a point of transition in 20^th-century Catholic doctrine and theology, and prepared the way, at least to some extent, for Vatican II.

            To be sure, a revival of the theology of the Church as the Mystical Body of Christ had begun already in the 1930s in the writings of the Belgian theologian Émile Mersch, who retrieved the thought of the Eastern Fathers.  Cyril of Alexandria, for example, had stressed the physical and organic union between Christ, the Head of the Church, and every member of the Church.

            The encyclical Mystici Corporis rejected two extreme ways of viewing the Church.  The one saw it as an exclusively hierarchical reality; the other, as a purely charismatic entity. 

            There can be no real opposition or conflict, Pius XII insisted, between the invisible mission of the Holy Spirit and the juridical commission to teach and govern received from Christ.  On the contrary, they mutually complement and perfect each other, as do the body and the soul in every person.

            The Church, the encyclical continued, does not consist of the hierarchy alone but of all the baptized, laity as well as clergy and religious.  And all of them are called to holiness.

            The source of this holiness is the Holy Spirit, who is the very heart and soul of the Church.  It is the Holy Spirit who creates and sustains its unity.

            Indeed, the Holy Spirit is available to, and guides, every baptized member of the Church, not just the hierarchy or the clergy and religious. 

            The encyclical also made the important point that, while Peter and his successors in the primacy are Vicars of Christ, the Church has only one Head, namely, Jesus Christ.  Bishops, however, are “subordinate to the lawful authority of the Roman Pontiff, although enjoying the ordinary power of jurisdiction which they receive directly from the same Roman Pontiff” (n. 42).

            To be sure, these words were written some two decades before Vatican II’s Dogmatic Constitution on the Church and its teaching on episcopal collegiality.  Another residue of Counter-Reformation ecclesiology was the encyclical’s insistence that only Catholics are true members of the Church (n. 22).

            This teaching was taken to its logical extreme a few years later by Father Leonard Feeney, S.J., who interpreted the medieval axiom literally: “Outside the Church, no salvation.”  The Vatican was compelled to distance itself from Father Feeney’s interpretation, insisting that there are various ways of being in a saving relationship with the Church, including, in Pius XII’s words, “an unconscious desire and longing” (n. 103).

            The encyclical also anticipated the council’s Declaration on Religious Freedom by condemning the use of compulsion to bring people to embrace the Catholic faith against their will (n. 104).

            Vatican II would later set aside the category of membership (one is either in or out of the Church) entirely in favor of “degrees of communion,” as exist, for example, in an extended family.

            Whatever the encyclical’s strengths and weaknesses, Mystici Corporis did signify an important transition from the prevailing ecclesiology of the Counter-Reformation to one more biblically based and open to the role of the Holy Spirit in the Church’s life and mission.

This essay is provided by the Fellowship of Southern Illinois Laity.  Please share it with a friend.  We welcome your comments and contributions.  Let us know if you wish to be added to our mailing list.  Our new website that includes these essays and Roger Karban’s commentaries on the Sunday Scripture readings is www.fosilonline.com.   

Fellowship of Southern Illinois Laity,

06/30/08

"The Governor and the Archbishop"

ESSAYS IN THEOLOGY

By Rev. Richard P. McBrien

            In early May Archbishop Joseph Naumann of Kansas City, Kansas, declared in a column for his diocesan paper, The Leaven, that Kansas Governor Kathleen Sebelius, a Catholic, should refrain from receiving Communion because of her pro-choice stand on abortion.

            He noted that last August, after consulting with the other bishops of Kansas, he wrote to the governor asking her to stop receiving Communion “until she had acknowledged the error of her past positions, made a worthy sacramental confession and taken the necessary steps for amendment of her life, which would include a public repudiation of her previous efforts and actions in support of laws and policies sanctioning abortion.” 

            The only thing that the archbishop apparently did not ask of the governor is that she appear in a kneeling position on the steps of the cathedral, wearing sackcloth and ashes.

            When objective histories of the previous pontificate are written many years from now, Pope John Paul II’s many achievements will surely be acknowledged, but the record will also show that the Catholic Church’s most severe crisis since the time of the Reformation, namely, the sexual-abuse scandal in the priesthood, occurred on his watch.  And that will be closely followed by the quality of priests he placed in the hierarchy or promoted within it.

            Because of his pattern of appointments in the United States alone, there was no bishop of the caliber of Cardinal Joseph Bernardin of Chicago, for example, who had the vision, the courage, and the credibility to lead the Church through the worst throes of that crisis.  All were awaiting instructions from Rome, but none were forthcoming.

            The politicization of the hierarchy also would not have occurred if the pattern of appointments during the pontificate of Paul VI had continued beyond his death in 1978.

            One cannot imagine a Cardinal John Dearden of Detroit, for example, allowing without complaint–first private, then public, if necessary–a handful of bishops to disqualify Catholic politicians from receiving Communion because of their stance on a single moral issue, to the exclusion of all others.

            On the contrary, the Administrative Committee of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops had issued a statement every four years, beginning in 1976, urging a consistent-ethic-of-life approach in the way Catholic voters evaluate candidates for the Presidency. 

            The Catholic Church is not a single-issue Church, the bishops insisted.  As important as the abortion issue is, it is not the only issue on which to base a judgment for or against a political candidate. 

            The difficulty with Archbishop Naumann’s public denunciation of Governor Sebelius, therefore, is not the denunciation itself.  Catholics and other voters in Kansas would still be free to make up their own minds about whether to re-elect Kathleen Sebelius as their governor.

            As a matter of record, they did elect her by a substantial margin in 2002, and re-elected her by a landslide in 2006.

            But there are two objections one can lodge against the archbishop’s action, and neither would compromise his right of denunciation, if that is what he believed necessary.

            First, the archbishop’s statement presumed to judge Governor Sebelius’s conscience and her worthiness to receive Communion.  Not even Senator John Kerry’s own archbishop in Boston, Cardinal Sean O’Malley, went that far during the 2004 presidential election, and Senator Kerry, the Democratic candidate for President, is as pro-choice as Governor Sebelius. 

            Moreover, the U.S. Catholic bishops, under the leadership of Cardinal Theodore McCarrick, then-archbishop of Washington, D.C., expressed their concern about the risk of politicizing the Eucharist.

            Without denying the pastoral prerogatives of individual bishops, the bishops pointed out “the wide range of circumstances involved in arriving at a prudential judgment on a matter of this seriousness” and warned against the misuse of Catholic teaching and sacramental practice “for political ends” (“Catholics in Political Life,” 6/18/04).

            A second difficulty with Archbishop Naumann’s stance is that it is based on a double standard.  Some Catholic teachings–on human sexuality and reproduction–are considered crucially important, while others–on war and peace, social justice, civil rights, the environment–are not.

            Kansas also has a Catholic senator, Sam Brownback, who voted to authorize the preemptive war in Iraq, whose voting record on civil rights, the environment, and social justice issues is at least open to question, and who, after attending an early Mass on Sunday morning, joins his non-Catholic wife and family every week at the Topeka Bible Church. 

            The pre-Vatican II moral theology textbooks referred to this practice as communicatio in sacris.  Participating in non-Catholic worship was considered a serious sin.

            This column has no interest in criticizing Senator Brownback.  But one can fairly ask if there is a double standard at work here.

This essay is provided by the Fellowship of Southern Illinois Laity.  Please share it with a friend.  We welcome your comments and contributions.  Let us know if you wish to be added to our mailing list.  Our new website that includes these essays and Roger Karban’s commentaries on the Sunday Scripture readings is www.fosilonline.com.   

Fellowship of Southern Illinois Laity,

06 23 08

"Reform of the Liturgy"

ESSAYS IN THEOLOGY

By Rev. Richard P. McBrien

            Robert F. Taft, S.J., an internationally acclaimed authority on the history of Eastern liturgies, has been teaching at the Pontifical Oriental Institute in Rome for almost forty years, and also serves as a consultor for the Vatican’s Congregation for the Oriental Churches.  He holds the honorary title of Archmandrite, conferred upon him by more than one Eastern Church for his extraordinary contributions to liturgical studies and church unity.

            His recent article, “Return to Our Roots” (America, May 26-June 2), offers an even-handed assessment of the liturgical reforms promoted by the Second Vatican Council and promulgated by Pope Paul VI.

            A vocal minority of Catholics have expressed unhappiness with those reforms, and some have called for a “reform of the reform,” claiming that the pope himself is sympathetic with their cause.  They point to his writings as Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger and his subsequent approval of the Latin Mass as Benedict XVI.

            What does a seasoned and widely respected liturgical scholar like Father Taft have to say about this debate?

            Over against the liturgical nay-sayers, he writes: “I maintain that the Roman Catholic liturgical renewal in the wake of Vatican II was an overwhelming success, returning the liturgy to the people of God to whom it rightly belongs.”

            Taft acknowledges, on the one hand, that the reform mandated by the council “was not perfect, because nothing but God is perfect.”  He insists, on the other hand, that “it was done as well as was humanly possible at the time, and we owe enormous gratitude and respect to those who had the vision to implement it.”

             That said, Taft turns his attention to “what the reform did not do well.” His list, he hastens to add, does not include anything that the “reformers of the reform” want to reverse, such as the celebration of the liturgy in the vernacular, Communion in the hand, Mass facing the people, or the removal of the tabernacle to a sacrament chapel.

            He reminds us that the council’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy had a single, central purpose, namely, that the faithful might “be led to that full, conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebration which is demanded by the very nature of the liturgy and to which the Christian people...have a right and an obligation by reason of their baptism” (n.14).

            To attain this end, the council had to restore the rites “to the vigor they had in the tradition of the Fathers” (n.50).  And this, Father Taft points out, is “where the East came in.”

            Liturgical pioneers drew inspiration from Russian Orthodox emigrés to France, who had fled from their homeland after the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917.  These contacts proved crucially important because the Orthodox Church, Taft notes, had preserved the liturgical spirit of the early Church and continued to live by it.

            Liturgists in the West, however, did not attempt simply to imitate existing Eastern usage, but interpreted and applied it in the light of the needs of Latin Christianity.  And that is why the liturgical movement, which Vatican II essentially validated, was so successful.

            But there were things that Vatican II “failed to do well or did not do at all,” Taft writes. He mentions three items: the process of initiation, the Liturgy of the Hours, and Communion from the tabernacle.

            He underscores the irony that one of Pope Pius X’s most celebrated and enduring reforms, namely, the lowering of the age of first Holy Communion from adolescence to the age of reason, had the unfortunate effect of shifting the time of first Communion before Confirmation, and in the process making first Confession precede first Communion. 

            “This destroyed the age-old sequence of the rites of Christian initiation,” Taft insists, and it also transformed the sacrament of Penance, which was originally intended to reconcile grave sinners with the Church, into one of the rites of Christian initiation in the Catholic West.

            Taft argues, secondly, that the Liturgy of the Hours, despite its title, “is no liturgy at all, but still a breviary, or book of prayers.”  Even in its supposedly reformed state, it remains an essentially private activity of the clergy rather than a prayer of and by the whole Church.

            Finally, the distribution of pre-consecrated hosts at Mass was “totally unthinkable in the early Christian East and West...[and] is still inconceivable in any authentic Eastern Christian usage today.”  Indeed, “Communion from the tabernacle is like inviting guests to a banquet, then preparing and eating it oneself, while serving one’s guests the leftovers from a previous meal.”

            As always, Father Taft “tells it like it is.”

This essay is provided by the Fellowship of Southern Illinois Laity.  Please share it with a friend.  We welcome your comments and contributions.  Let us know if you wish to be added to our mailing list.  Our new website that includes these essays and Roger Karban’s commentaries on the Sunday Scripture readings is www.fosilonline.com.    Fellowship of Southern Illinois Laity,

06/16/08

"Theodore M. Hesburgh, Priest"

ESSAYS IN THEOLOGY

By Rev. Richard P. McBrien

Birthdays and anniversaries that do not end in a zero or a five are generally relegated to the back of the proverbial bus.  But once someone reaches 90 years of age, every birthday thereafter is a milestone. 

            Father Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C., for 35 years president of the University of Notre Dame and currently its president emeritus, turned 91 on May 25.  He received many well-deserved accolades and best wishes on that occasion, but in his mind he will celebrate a far more significant anniversary early next week.

            Sixty-five years ago, on June 24, 1943, he was ordained a priest in the Congregation of Holy Cross. The Second World War was still raging and the young Father Ted, as he has always preferred to be called, asked to serve as a Navy chaplain.  His superiors had other plans for him, and he was sent to study for a doctorate in Theology at The Catholic University of America.

            He would excel in his studies there, as he has excelled in everything else he has done, but he had difficulty obtaining approval for the topic that he had chosen for his doctoral dissertation: the theology of the laity.  Some of the professors at CUA regarded it as not sufficiently academic.

            One needs to be reminded that in the mid-1940s the laity were still looked upon as second-class members of the Church.  The “real” Church consisted of the hierarchy and other clergy.  Lay people were simply the beneficiaries of their teachings and spiritual ministrations.  As one cynical wag once put it, the laity existed to “pray, pay, and obey.” 

            There was also a movement at the time known as Catholic Action.  Its strength was that it found a place for the laity in the Church.  Its weakness was that it regarded lay activity as completely dependent on the hierarchy. 

            Catholic Action was defined as “the participation of the laity in the work of the hierarchy.”  The “real” work of the Church was done by the hierarchy.  The laity were at best their helpers.

            Critics twisted the definition to fit their idea of the actual situation in the Church, namely, “the interference of the laity in the lethargy of the hierarchy.”

            The young Father Ted Hesburgh knew in the mid-1940s that there was much more to the role of the laity in the Church than what even Catholic Action allowed for, and certainly more than the ministerial opportunities that were open to laity at the time.

            So after a struggle, but with the support of his dissertation director, Paulist Father Eugene Burke, Father Hesburgh produced his theology of the laity.  So popular was the finished product that the university bookstore could not keep printed copies in stock

            Father Hesburgh later received a request from the Vatican for a copy of the dissertation.  He dutifully sent it to Rome but heard nothing more about it–until two decades later, when he read the Second Vatican Council’s Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity and recognized his ideas incorporated therein, without a single footnote of attribution.

            He had surely been ahead of his time, even ahead of the great Dominican theologian, Yves (later Cardinal) Congar, whose book, Lay People in the Church, became the standard work on the theology of the laity upon its publication a decade later.

            It was prescient of this young priest, who was destined for such greatness in the Catholic Church and in the world community, to have recognized at the outset of his priestly life and ministry that priests exist for the sake of the laity, not vice versa.  Indeed, we are all laity, or people (laos in Greek) of God.  The fundamental sacrament is Baptism, not Holy Orders.

            Father Hesburgh received the prestigious Congressional Gold Medal in July of 2000.  At the award ceremony in the Capitol rotunda, then-President Bill Clinton captured the essence of the man when, after calling attention to his extraordinary contributions to his country and to world peace, he said: “The greatest honor you’ll ever wear around your neck is the collar of a priest.”

            Father Hesburgh unhesitatingly agreed.  The most significant day of his life, he said at the ceremony, was the day of his ordination to the priesthood.  For years he has insisted to his many friends and countless audiences that his all-sufficient epitaph would simply read: “priest.”

            Since his ordination 65 years ago, the Eucharist has been at the center of his daily life, no matter where in the world he has been, and his daily prayer, “Come, Holy Spirit.”

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