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CONFERENCE V

OBEDIENCE

THERE is no more solemn moment in the whole Ordination Service than when the newly ordained priest kneels before his Bishop, who, taking his hands between his own, asks him the question, "Promittis mihi et successoribus meis reverentiam et obedientiam?" and on receiving the requisite promise, kisses him on the cheek, saying the words, "Pax Domini sit semper tecum."

The words "reverentiam et obedientiam" may perhaps be freely rendered as "a loyal obedience," and the solemnity of the surroundings when the promise is made should not only serve to impress it, on the mind and memory, but is also an indication of the importance which the Church attaches to that virtue in the future life of the priest.

The virtue of obedience is one which we are accustomed to read about as the foundation of the religious life, and it has been practised in a high degree in the various religious orders and congregations. We have often heard of special instances to illustrate this. A Jesuit Provincial receives a letter one morning informing him that he is to relinquish his office, and to devote himself to another work, of an altogether humble description, and immediately he prepares to leave for his new sphere of labour at the earliest possible moment. A Franciscan missionary is commanded to leave one centre of work, and to proceed to another, perhaps a thousand miles away, and before the day is out, he has started on his journey. These, indeed, are special instances of an extreme nature; but the general type is common to all religious.

Moreover, obedience to command is carried into all the details of their daily lives. The bell summons them to the various duties of the day, and they aim at instant obedience, so that a perfect religious will immediately leave off anything he is saying or writing in order to give a willing and punctual compliance. The story is often quoted of the Carthusians, who speak only once a week, leaving off in the middle of a sentence at the sound of the bell to resume the thread in a week's time.

Again, no work is undertaken by them without the direct command of their superior, but whatever he directs has to be done at once, and to the best of their power, even though they may not see the reason of his command, or may even in their own mind think it unwise. In the more perfect stages of obedience they are called upon to submit their judgment and opinions to those of the superior. It is no wonder that a strict novitiate is enjoined to train them to such obedience as this.

In reading these descriptions, however, there seems to be in the case of a secular priest some unreality. He will never be called upon to practise obedience of this kind. If his Bishop moves him from one mission to another, he will not usually do so in this sudden manner. If the priest has reached a certain age or standing, his Bishop will consult his feelings before appointing him to any new work, to ascertain whether it is such that he thinks he can do, or to see whether he has any great objection to it. In a secular priest's daily life he is not called to his various duties by the sound of the bell at all in the same way as a religious. He is expected to be punctual when he has to perform pastoral duties, and his day is usually mapped out by necessary limitations caused by his work—sometimes regular, often most irregular and unforeseen,—but that is all. He is in no case expected to break off suddenly at the sound of a bell in the manner described.

Then again, religious obedience is often described as a "passive virtue." According to Rodriguez, ²⁶ a religious who practises it in perfection makes himself like a dead body, which has no movement of its own, but is taken from place to place by the living. Surely nothing can be more unlike than this to the condition of a secular priest, who has to be all activity and energy. He has to use his own judgment in everything, and only rarely receives any definite command or guidance from his Bishop or Superior.

What then? Does a secular priest not have to practise this virtue? or is his obedience at least on a lower level than that of a religious? This is surely a pertinent question and calls for a careful answer.

A little consideration will show us that the obedience of a secular priest differs from that of a religious not in degree but in kind, and that even if we grant that for the perfection of the virtue we may have to look to the religious state, the obedience practised by a secular may be, and commonly is, in many respects harder of accomplishment. Let us examine this in detail.

The obedience of a religious may be compared with that of a private soldier. The command is given, and he has nothing to do but to obey. The strength of an army is dependent upon the unanimity and promptness of their obedience. The orders are given by the officer in command, in an absolute manner, and he bears all the responsibility: the soldier has no say as to whether the order is wise or unwise; he has only to execute it. The work of the typical religious includes much of this principle and acquires proportionate strength. The superior views the situation, and, aided by the advice of whatever form of consultation his particular rule provides, he determines what is to be done. He communicates his decision to whom it may concern, and they have at once to receive the commands and execute them.

The obedience of a secular priest, on the other hand, is more like that of an inferior officer, who while he is leading others, is also in contact with one in supreme command, helping him, advising him, and sharing in part his responsibilities. One of the earliest experiences of a priest when he first goes on the mission is to find the power and influence which he exerts over his people. This power he is free to use with little restriction. He may use it in subservience to his rector—if he is a curate—or to his Bishop, to help on their work, to make the people loyal towards them, and to endeavour that everything shall proceed in harmony with their wishes and plans; or he may criticise their ideas, speak and act against them, and take refuge in self-defence on his "rights" and the position he occupies. Undoubtedly there will be rules and regulations laid down by his superiors which will grate on him and of which he may at least profess not to see the use. When young, he may be ready to find fault with the work to which he is appointed, and be discontented; and when he grows into years, he may get the impression that he is not appreciated, that others are unjustly preferred before him, and so forth. To put it on its lowest ground, a priest of this kind is a continual trouble to his Bishop, and a source not of strength but of weakness.

Now the remedy for this evil frame of mind is by no means to become passive, or to resemble a dead body which is moved about by others. He is called upon to do something more difficult to human nature—to act positively in loyal subservience to his superior. Such obedience is less tangible than that of a religious, and in that proportion it is harder. ²⁷ It involves a whole spirit of loyalty, and the very vagueness of its application makes it harder. We are not brought to book, so to say, by the advantage of a definite command, and yet with all our outward liberty, we are called upon to regulate our whole life on submission and obedience. Now if there is a course of action which goes against our taste and judgment, it is comparatively easy to overcome our reluctance and to perform outwardly what we are told to do; but when we have no definite command given, and are simply called upon of our own free will to act positively to forward some particular course of action, this is often far harder.

Yet this is what a secular priest is continually called upon to do. His rector runs the parish on lines which he considers old-fashioned and out of date; he seems to discourage new works which the needs of the day seem to call for. There may be some truth underlying these criticisms, though probably there is much to be urged on the other side. However this may be, a priest in the flower of his youth and activity can do much to direct the course of public feeling among the parishioners. He can either defend his rector to the best of his ability, explain that there may be many circumstances, important factors of the case, which are not publicly known; and try and carry things on in accordance with the rector's ideas and schemes; or he can fan the discontent by joining in the criticism, with alas! too great effect, for discontent easily spreads and develops. Needless to say, the priest with the spirit of obedience adopts the former course; the one without such spirit the latter. But in neither case is he or ought he to be in a passive state; he has to be all life and action.

In like manner, when a Bishop wishes to change the work of a priest, and offers him a new mission, undoubtedly one who makes difficulties about accepting this or that place, or any that does not fit in with his tastes and requirements, is not showing the spirit of obedience; and one who holds himself passive and ready to undertake whatever his Bishop suggests is doing better. Nevertheless, there may be a better stage still and a more obedient one, which is to discuss the matter with his Bishop and give him the advice he seeks. For one of the most important factors in helping him to make up his mind is to know what his priests think they are qualified to undertake. If the priest remains passive, all the onus of deciding is thrown on the Bishop; and though this is far better than opposing him or raising difficulties, it is not the most perfect course. But, granted that he has talked it over in the manner indicated, should the Bishop decide not in accordance with his wishes—which will frequently occur, in view of the many and complicated needs of the diocese—then is the time for the obedient priest to accept his Bishop's decision as the voice of God, and to set himself to the work indicated however distasteful it may be to himself. The ruling idea in his mind should ever be, how he can be of the greatest service to his Bishop and help to lighten his heavy burden. It is difficult enough to govern wisely at any time: it becomes ten times harder when it is a case of governing unwilling subjects. An obedient priest will strive to make it not harder but easier.

We can perhaps contrast our obedience with that in the army. There discipline is carried to a high pitch, as is necessary for efficiency, but interior obedience there is none. Most soldiers seem to spend the greater part of their time in finding fault, sometimes in strong language, with the orders of their commanders. There are indeed means of enforcing obedience and the commands have to be obeyed: but the thought of rendering the commander's task easier does not enter in. In the case of priestly obedience, no such material sanction exists, or at least it plays a very secondary part. The whole relation between him who commands and the subject who obeys is on a spiritual and sacred footing, and enforced almost entirely by such considerations—for the punishments at a Bishop's disposal, such as censures or the like, are very rarely available, and, even if available, only used when other motives fail. Hence the practice of obedience becomes a positive virtue.

If we wish to find out whether we ourselves are practising the proper spirit, we can do so by watching an unguarded and spontaneous conversation, for "out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh." ²⁸ If we find ourselves instinctively talking against those above us, it is a sure sign that we are not obedient men; if, on the other hand, we are truly obedient in mind, this will show itself by the whole turn of our talk about our superiors. It is hardly too much to say that it is this spirit of obedience which alone will make a priest's life happy, or even bearable.

We may ask, then, are there no circumstances in which we are justified in resisting authority without prejudice to our obedience? Is a truly obedient priest precluded from taking part in any action which has for its object the resistance of episcopal or other rulers? Surely the negative answer is indicated by the whole practice of the Church and of Canon Law which gives and regulates the right of appeal in certain cases. And we all know of instances in which saints have resisted authority. Cannot we safely follow their example?

The answer in the first place is that they were saints. A person who has such perfect control over his lower nature may venture on a course which to us would be dangerous. And indeed resistance to authority is always dangerous. The author of the Imitation warns us how many people are moved with passion and mistake it for zeal. So long as we are obeying, we are on safe ground: there is no motive possible to us but that of obedience. Once change our condition to one of resistance, and there may be hundreds of motives such as injured pride, self-will, want of charity to our superiors, and the like which may be influencing us to a far greater extent than we know.

If, then, we think it necessary at any time to resist our superiors, our first care should be to test ourselves, to see whether we are in truth actuated by unworthy motives. There are two means ready to hand. One is prayer, earnest and long continued; the other is prudent advice. If we go to a disinterested party, whether a priest or a Bishop—for laymen will not be in a position to understand the circumstances—the adviser will be better able to judge of the position than we are, from the very fact that he is disinterested. Then he will realise better than we do that there may be circumstances unknown to us, on which our superior has based his action, and in many cases charity demands that we should believe such circumstances to exist until the contrary is proved. Then let us beware of the plea which is so often put forward by the priest who is by nature disobedient, that he is not contending for himself—so far as he is concerned he would willingly put up with the injustice—but that it is his duty to defend a principle for the sake of the rights of other priests similarly situated. In most cases this is in truth a thin covering of self-will. His first statement is indeed most cogent: it is oftentimes far better to put up with supposed injustice, which after all may be only supposed; and a really obedient man will fall back on that whenever he possibly can. It is only when he is advised by a competent authority that he ought to act, that he will adopt a position so distasteful to him.

Granted, however, that a priest is advised that he ought not to let matters rest as they are, let him act with confidence and all charity. His first step will of course be to see his Bishop and talk the matter out. This stage, indeed is fairly often reached. Cardinal Vaughan quotes a great authority of his day on obedience, speaking to him as follows:—

"In his administrative capacity, a Bishop may err in judgment, he may be narrow, inconsiderate and at fault. This may be a trial to a priest; but his duty is perfectly clear. He should say, 'God can appoint such a one to be my superior, and the means of my sanctification. He stands to me in the place of God; I must obey.'"

Nevertheless, he continues:—

"The priest in such a case may legitimately make respectful representations to his Bishop. It may be his duty to make such representations. Let him do this once, but let him beware of morally forcing the Bishop by his importunities." ²⁹

If these representations are made in a proper spirit, and with due submission, they ought not to form an act of hostility: on the contrary, they may in fact be the highest form of obedience, for the priest in this manner may put before his Bishop facts of which he was unaware, or considerations which had not occurred to him. In the great majority of cases an understanding may be arrived at in this manner.

In the few instances in which the Bishop does not modify his action and the priest remains of the same opinion, it may be necessary to carry the matter further. If so, the spirit of charity becomes doubly needful. No word of "tyranny" or "injustice" or "ill-temper" applied to his superior should escape him, and a favourable interpretation should always be given to his superior's actions. Let the appellant priest fortify himself continually with prayer, so as to obtain the gift of counsel, and let this be joined to a special intercession on behalf of the superior against whom he is acting. These are ordinary means for ensuing his purity of intention; and if these means alone are taken, we may be confident as to the result. For whatever the final verdict may be, if we have taken the requisite precautions, it will be a victory, for God's will is done. When the late Cardinal Vaughan, then Bishop of Salford, had his long dispute with the Jesuits in Rome, when the letter came to him announcing the result, before he opened it, while still ignorant of its contents, he went to the tomb of St. Peter to return thanks.

Alas, that this spirit is so often wanting in the appeals of our clergy. All those who are acquainted with the Holy See will bear witness to the readiness to hear the appeal of the weak against the strong, and all such appeals have sympathetic consideration. The fact that the majority of them go in favour of the Bishops is an unfortunate testimony to the frequent insufficiency of the grounds of appeal, and indicates a want of the spirit of obedience.

Such, however, is not always the case, and one can point to instances in which the appeal has been conscientiously made, even though it proved unsuccessful, and some also in which the verdict has been in favour of the priest and against his superior. In such rare cases, it is hardly necessary to add there must be no note of triumph or of self-congratulation. A disagreeable duty has been done, and properly accomplished, and we go back ready to resume our work for God and souls.

But it is not necessary to dwell on this eventuality, considering how exceedingly rare is its occurrence. Let us end as we began by alluding to the words at our Ordination:—

"While the sacred body and blood of Christ are still within him, he gives his newly consecrated hands into the hands of the Bishop, who says: 'Promittis mihi et successoribus meis reverentiam et obedientiam?' To which he replies 'Promitto.' And as the personal fruit of obedience is peace of conscience and the peace of God, the bishop adds, 'Pax Domini sit semper tecum.'

"The formal acceptance by the Church of the solemn promise of obedience made by the priest contains an assurance and a pledge full of encouragement and consolation to the priest himself.

"He is an officer in the army of Christ: he has promised loyalty and obedience. All the works of his ministry undertaken in obedience to his Bishop, or in conformity with the discipline and canons of the service are henceforth to be accounted not as private and particular works, but as works belonging to the Christian ministry. They are of a higher order; they are the works of Christ Himself, and deserve a special reward." ³⁰

APPENDIX ON OBEDIENCE AT THE SEMINARY

IT would seem at first sight an anomaly that if the obedience practised by a secular priest is so different from that of a religious, in the time of preparation at the Seminary the life is modelled on that of a religious congregation; for, although it is no doubt easy compared with that of any religious Order, it is, nevertheless, of much the same character, and the occasions of practising obedience in a Seminary are very similar to those in a monastery. There are fixed hours for rising, for prayers and mass, for study, recreation and meals, and there are times of silence—as after night prayers, or before the morning meditation. The students are, in fact, expected continually to obey the bell as it calls them from one duty to another in much the same way as a religious does. Why, it may be asked, if their future obedience and future life are to be so different from that of a religious are they asked to go through a daily routine at the Seminary which seems to be based on theirs, or at least to be similar to it?

This is a pertinent and natural question; but the answer is simple. The essential difference is that one is permanent and the other temporary. A Seminarist is called upon to exercise the easier forms of obedience, to train him for the harder. He leads a regular daily life, in obedience to authority made known to us by definite commands and by fixed rules, in order that he may acquire a habit of submission which may give him his tone when he shall have gone forth from the Seminary and have no such definite rules or commands to guide him.

It is this consideration which gives the true importance to the daily observance of such rules as he has. We sometimes hear the question, "Is it a sin to break a rule?" Surely this is looking at the question from an unworthy standpoint. Theologians say that it is not a sin even for a religious who has taken a special vow of obedience to break a small point of his rule; much less can it be a sin for a Seminarist, who has taken no such vow. But there is a higher way of looking at it than this. It is not a question whether this or that isolated rule binds under sin; the question is rather how the Seminarist's general attitude towards the rules is affecting his training, how far the object for which they have been imposed upon him is attained, or how far impeded, by the spirit in which he accepts them. The proper spirit should be something of this kind. He has come to the Seminary to undergo a definite training, which is administered by those set over him, through the instrumentality of the rules. It is the traditional Catholic training, which has formed holy priests and even saints. All the incidents of his daily life are part and parcel of it. To neglect or put aside any of them deliberately is to put aside part of that training, with its corresponding means of sanctification, both natural and supernatural. To put it on its lowest grounds, he cannot afford to lose it.

Indeed, one would hope that a well-behaved Seminarist would never deliberately and of set purpose break rules. Small failings through thoughtlessness, or in the weakness of the moment, are indeed excusable; but that is essentially different from open and premeditated breaches of discipline. A Seminarist who frequently fails to come down in the morning, or who evades his work when he conveniently can, who is slack and unpunctual at his various duties, is misusing his time and omitting that which the Church and his Bishop reasonably expect him to do. He may be clever enough to conceal his idleness; he may even after an ill-spent term make up time and pass his examinations by cramming up at the end—for which some have a great facility; but he will never make up the training he has lost, nor will he obtain the graces which would have been his had he used the means which God gave him to obtain them.

Moreover, the spirit of obedience or disobedience in community life is very catching. One grumbler will make many. The Seminarist owes a duty to the institution which has done and is doing so much for him, to set up a high ideal for himself which will spread itself to others and affect the whole life led within the walls of the Seminary. It is a duty which he owes to his Bishop and likewise to his fellow students.

This whole question is so vital to the life of the Seminary that we may be excused for appealing to high authority in support of what has been said. In his Lex Levitarum, the late Bishop Hedley discusses it at some length, and all that he says will repay careful reading. His first conclusion is that although single rules can in single cases be broken without sin, "It is sinful and a sin against obedience to violate them in grave matters, or with a persistence which causes grave results in the house. But," he continues, "the aspirant to the holy priesthood should take a higher view of the rules of his Seminary. They are, indeed, not fetters to bind his liberty, but steps or occasions to deepen his purity of heart, and his love of his heavenly Father. In themselves they are wise and useful, tending to the well-being of each individual. Even therefore if they carried no obligation, it would be the part of a true servant of God to observe them religiously. Obedience is the most essential virtue of a heart which aspires to imitate Jesus Christ; a real, interior obedience, not merely external, but grounded upon general humility of heart. It is obedience which most effectively clothes the spirit with the mind and temper of Christ. It is obedience which has the promise of victory over passion, and of success in the ministry of souls. To promote and to deepen in the character the spirit of obedience is certainly one of the principal purposes of the training of a priest. . . . A life of rule which is accepted and loved is the very best preparation for the priesthood because it is the very best discipline of a truly Christ-like mind, and the most effective instrument for acquiring perfection." ³¹