Kitabı oku: «The Priestly Vocation», sayfa 9

CONFERENCE X
THE RECREATIONS OF A PRIEST

IN the rules of every religious order are to be found special provisions with respect to recreation. These are both positive and negative. On the one hand there is usually a daily recreation which all take in common; and besides this, there are other times on feast days or other occasions when the ordinary rule of silence is relaxed and recreation by conversation is possible. On the other hand there are the negative rules, that a subject must not seek recreation outside his monastery, and must not go out for social intercourse with his neighbours without the leave of his superior, for which he must adduce a good reason.

The prominence attached to such regulations shows the important place which the subject holds in the life of the Order or Congregation. With the secular clergy this is no less so; and as is so often the case in comparing the two states, we find that the secular priest has in one sense a harder task, for he has no limitations of rule to guide him and no superior at hand to counsel him. He has to depend on his own strength of will and his own judgment.

But at the beginning of his priestly career, he has even greater difficulty, for it comes at a time when he has just thrown off the restrictions of seminary life, and also when he is reaching the fulness of his manhood. The world which has been kept from him to a great extent up to then now seems to open out and smile before him. It used to be a frequent question to seminarists, "How soon do you hope to be out?" Now he has come out. He is at once made much of by his new parishioners, who shower upon him invitations to lunch, dinner, supper, or other social gatherings. He needs no small self-control to avoid being carried off his legs at the outset, and being drawn into a daily life such as he never looked forward to when picturing to himself the priesthood.

His personal freedom also tends to increase the difficulty of his state. He has no wife or family to think of, he is alone, and is for the first time in the enjoyment of outward liberty, for his actual priestly duties can in the majority of cases be postponed or adjusted or even omitted to facilitate his recreation. It is very easy for his boy's outlook on life, which he should have put away before entering philosophy, to persist in considerable measure not only during his seminary course, but even after he has begun his career as a priest. Such an attitude is simply to take anything pleasurable or attractive which comes in his way, provided it is not sinful, and to enjoy it.

The state of the newly ordained priest in this respect is vividly depicted by Cardinal Manning:—⁶⁹

"To a priest who enters for the first time upon the sacerdotal life the first danger is the loss of the supports on which he has so long been resting in the seminary. As in the launching of a ship, when the stays are knocked away, it goes down into the water, thenceforward to depend on its own stability; so a priest going out from the seminary into the field of his work has thenceforward to depend under God upon his own stedfastness of will. The order, method and division of time and of work; the sound of the bell from early morning through the day till the last toll at night; the example and mutual influence and friendship of companions in the same sacred life; and still more the nature, counsel and wise charity of superiors—all these things sustain the watchfulness and perseverance of ecclesiastical students until the day when invested with the priesthood, they go out from the old familiar walls and the door is closed behind them. They are in the wide world, secular as the Apostles were—that is, in the world for the world's sake, not of it, but at war with it; of all men the least secular, unless they become worldly, and the salt lose its savour."

A little later he continues:—

"A life of unlimited liberty is encompassed with manifold temptations. A priest coming out of a seminary needs fellowship, and he often seeks it in society. He does not as yet know the character of those about him, or the reputation of the homes to which he is invited. Before he is aware he is often entangled in relations he would not have chosen and in invitations which, if he had the courage, he would refuse. People are very hospitable and pity a priest's loneliness and like to have him at their tables. Sometimes the best of people are least circumspect and most kindly importunate in their invitations. How shall a young and inexperienced mind hold out against these facilities and allurements to relaxation, unpunctuality, self-indulgence and dissipation? The whole of a priest's life may be determined by his first outset. He has been in it too short a time either to gain or to buy experience."

It is not meant to be inferred that all social invitations should be refused and all intercourse with one's neighbour avoided. Such would be both impossible and undesirable. Nor, indeed, can it be allowed that such invitations are by any means always accepted from motives of recreation at all. Such is of course often the case; but often it is not. In many instances the priest may be fulfilling a duty of charity, or finding a means of spreading his pastoral work, and the recreation may be a secondary consideration, or may even be absent altogether. Indeed, as a priest gets into years he will find more and more that many of his duties will bring all that is necessary for him in the way of recreation without his seeking it by any special act; and this even though he has to face much which is dull or unattractive or monotonous to him. The late Canon Oakeley, in his lectures at St. Thomas's Seminary so far back as the year 1870, lays stress on this point:—⁷⁰

"A priest," he writes, "especially in some of the less populous missions, will soon find that social intercourse with his parishioners is quite as often a duty of charity as a means of personal recreation. He must either refuse invitations altogether, or participate in some festivities which will tax his good nature and exercise his self-denial quite as much as many of his severer duties. He may have to sit out a dull dinner-party, with uncongenial companions, on a hot day in summer. He may have to carve a round of beef for thirty hungry children at a Christmas party. He may have to adapt himself to the tastes and manners of the poorer members of his flock at some rural entertainment where his presence will tend to promote innocent mirth and to check dangerous excesses. On these and similar occasions he will find it necessary to put a restraint on his natural inclinations, in order to confer on those for whose happiness he is responsible that especial gratification which good Catholics of every class derive from the sympathy and society of their priest."

Yet, apart from duties of charity, some recreative society can lawfully and advisably be sought in the houses of the laity; but it should be strictly under control and subject to narrow limits. Above all things, a priest must not be a slave to it, so as to be driven by human respect often to accept invitations which his reason may tell him to be inordinate. A priest should not be a pleasure-seeker; and if he is not ready to deprive himself of much society which has an attractive appearance, for the sake of his work and for the recollection of his life, it is an unfailing sign of the loss of the priestly spirit. But precisely what limits to lay down for himself, cannot be stated in general terms, for it depends not only on a priest's own personality and temperament, but also on the circumstances in which he is placed. Canon Oakeley, however, adds one restriction which should certainly be adhered to, for we live in an ill-natured world, and our best friends are ready to be captious in their fault-finding:—

"The priest in society," he writes, "must never forget that he is a priest. Even if he forgets it, others will not. The ambiguous jest, the anecdote of questionable propriety, the loose and unguarded manner, with other such indications of the unpriestly character, will be remembered and perhaps quoted against him when the evening is over, and when its warping influences have given way to calmer thoughts and cooler judgments. The same persons who in the spirit of hospitable good nature have placed in his way the inducements to those excesses which at least weaken morality, if they do not occasion scandal, will be among the first to criticise the indiscretions to which they have helped to give rise. The demeanour of a priest in society should always be marked by humility, modesty, courtesy and prudence. He should be swift to hear and slow to dogmatise. He should avoid arguments except when necessary for the vindication of truth; and when thus necessary, he should maintain his side with meekness and in the spirit of charity."

There is one kind of social intercourse that should be an unmixed good, and often is so—the meeting with our fellow clergy. It is difficult to get them together for merely social gatherings; but any part of their work which brings them across their fellow priests is to both parties a source of strength as well as recreation. One of the great advantages of the monthly Theological Conference is that it brings groups of clergy together and is often made the occasion of a dinner or other social gathering. In like manner, not the least of the benefits which the Clergy Fund confers on its members is the bringing together of all the clergy of the South of England once a year to spend an evening in each other's society.

Even gatherings of the clergy, however, are not without their abuses. The sight of a party of priests playing at cards hour after hour, till late at night, with its usual accompaniments, is happily more rare than it once was; but it is hardly obsolete even yet. Of course there is nothing in itself wrong in a game of cards, or in playing for money, provided the stakes are low; but it is well known as leading to much abuse. The excitement is of an unhealthy kind, and whether one is winning or losing, it is difficult to break off when a suitable hour arrives. Indeed, the whole question of card-playing needs treating with caution; both because it so often leads to what is undesirable, and because the recreation it affords is at best out of proportion to the time consumed. After a long session one ends less fresh than one began. A game of whist, or to some extent bridge, in which considerable skill is required, rests on a somewhat different footing: but even of that we should be wise to exercise a careful control.

From the social side of a priest's life, one naturally turns to that which has most influence on him when he is alone and which will include the chief part of his solitary recreation—his reading. To say that much of the success or failure of his priestly life will depend on the proper direction of his reading is merely to say what is obvious. Leaving out of account his directly spiritual exercises, he will undoubtedly have a large amount of time on his hands which may be most usefully employed in reading, and which otherwise will be simply wasted. A certain proportion of this may be solid work, such as theological or other study, necessitating close application. A mathematician may utilise his powers by studying problems or other matter, which stimulates and improves his mind. But there must be a large amount of time left when the mind is too tired for serious exertion, and this can be profitably devoted to reading of a lighter nature.

The first idea that occurs to one is novels. In past times a stricter view obtained about novel reading than seems to be the case to-day. There is no doubt that a purely sensational novel is a powerful instrument for the loss of time, and it engenders an unhealthy craving for excitement of an undesirable type. A novel which is chiefly read for the excitement of its plot is beyond all doubt the priest's enemy, and a greater and stronger enemy than many realise. Such novels exist to-day in large numbers, and are sold at low prices. Perhaps for that reason they are not spoken of with much respect, and being of a generally low order, are less likely to ensnare us than those of a generation or two ago. This of course does not apply to classical novels, such as Scott, Dickens, Thackeray, etc., nor to many modern novels by standard authors. But there are many to which it does apply. Even the best novels are permeated with worldly ideals, and the mainspring of the story always turns upon love affairs, which even to a Christian in the world should not be the exclusive motive of life. Nevertheless, if such books are read with care and discrimination, much recreative as well as educational thought can be obtained from them without any serious instilling of wrong principles.

The general subject of novels, however, is too long and complex to discuss here. We can perhaps get a little more practical on that of newspapers. To a priest a certain amount of newspaper reading is not only desirable, but necessary to keep him in touch with the world in which he lives and works. To know what is going on politically, the forces at work in Parliament, the agitations through the country, the relations of capital to labour, the lives and deaths of distinguished men, is essential to the conditions of modern life. Would that newspaper reading stopped there! Alas, many of the principles are unconsciously imbibed and are detrimental to the priestly spirit. This is no new evil. So far back as about the year 1836, Dr. Newsham of Ushaw wrote to Dr. Wiseman, as he then was, Rector of the English College at Rome, deploring the newspaper as the source of much of the want of ecclesiastical spirit among the clergy of his day:—⁷¹

"I will say to you frankly that there is a very great want of a spirit of piety, faith and religion in our clergy. It is useless to investigate the cause of this. I will say briefly that it has probably in good measure arisen from the great majority of the missionaries being young men, from the little control that has been exercised by the Bishops for many years over their young priests on the mission, and probably above all from the spirit of the times which is incessantly infused into the mind of a young man by our abominable newspapers. In fact, a greater pest, a more efficient weapon of the devil does not exist in the world than the English newspapers. Their pernicious effect on the minds of our young ecclesiastics has been observed and lamented by many others as well as myself."

At the present day the evil is of course emphasised by the great profusion of cheap newspapers, and as a rule the cheaper the paper, the lower the style and setting. And a further evil has arisen of reading those parts of them which give a momentary excitement. The little paragraphs are a potent time-waster. Even during the war, the evening papers contain much that is not really of any permanent importance about it, but out of war-time we became familiar with any number of small tit-bits which may beguile the time of a business man returning home from his work, but which are unworthy of the attention of a serious-minded priest. Yet the paper became so full of them that even important news, such as the proceedings of Parliament, became relegated to a back page, or even got omitted altogether.

If we want to see a priest at his worst, we cannot think of a better opportunity than after breakfast on a winter's morning, if we can find him, as we sometimes can, spending an hour or two of the most valuable time of the day, when he is best fitted for work, in sitting before the fire reading the newspaper and smoking pipe or cigarette.

This perhaps suggests a few words about smoking itself, which can be reckoned among a priest's recreations; and if properly controlled, a very good recreation it may be. The solace of a pipe towards the end of a day, when nature calls for a rest and an opportunity for quiet thought, may be of great assistance to a priest in recuperating after a day's work. And a smoke after meals is good and healthy for mind and body. But, alas! many people do not limit themselves to moderate smoking, and the habit often leads to sad waste of time. There are indeed some who can work better with a pipe in their mouths: but these are the exception. The ordinary rule is that smoking is only compatible with light occupation. Hence a man who is always craving for a smoke is always craving for a few idle moments. How many small intervals in the day are there which many a priest fills up with a cigarette, with or without a little light reading or newspaper snippets. One does not easily realise how much time can be thrown away in this manner. Cardinal Manning used to have always at hand what he called a "five-minutes book," and he used to tell of the large amount of reading which he thus got through in his short unoccupied intervals.

But the evil of the frequent cigarette is more far-reaching than that. The craving which calls for a few minutes of self-indulgence of this kind is surely an opportunity for a little self-control and mortification: if this is allowed to slip, by degrees one becomes a slave to smoking. And the evils of heavy smoking are many and great. One is the general demoralising effect on oneself. Another is the unpleasant effect it has on others. A heavy smoker is a selfish man: the fact that he inconveniences his neighbour does not deter him. After all, non-smokers form more than half of the congregation, for practically all the women and children are such, besides a not inconsiderable proportion of the men. To non-smokers, the smell of stale smoke is always unpleasant, while not infrequently it engenders unwillingness to go into close contact, as for example in the Confessional. Then again the stained fingers which mark the heavy smoker seem an unworthy instrument for saying mass, and for touching the Blessed Sacrament. Many a person has been kept away from a priest by his reeking of tobacco. Truly a priest's whole career may be marred by the habit.

The danger of continual smoking at small intervals is obviously much greater in the case of a cigarette than a pipe, and one stage towards self-control in this matter would be to keep the number of cigarettes strictly limited. But the best preservative is to have fixed hours for smoking of any kind and never to smoke outside them.

CONFERENCE XI
THE RECREATIONS OF A PRIEST

(continued)

THE actual laws about a priest's recreation are, as is almost necessary from the nature of the case, only negative. They enumerate the amusements in which he must not take part. In our own Synods there are two laws, the first of which is taken from the Synod of St. Charles at Milan:—

"Priests should keep away from spectacles unworthy of an ecclesiastic, from clamorous hunting which is carried on with horse and hounds, from public dances, from unlawful games and from feastings which are protracted till late in the night."

"We strictly forbid clerics in Holy Orders from being present at scenic representations in public theatres [or in places which serve for the time as public theatres], ⁷² imposing on transgressors the penalty of suspension incurred ipso facto, as has hitherto been in force throughout England, with reservation to their respective Ordinary."

The first of these laws is sufficiently vague to admit of considerable variety of interpretation. So far as public dances or balls are concerned, the practice has always been to regard them as not the place for a priest. At the time of the French Revolution, the émigrés clergy, who were received in England with such hospitality, used to be invited to all kinds of festivities, and no doubt their heads became somewhat turned. At any rate, many of them used to stay up the greater part of a night at balls to which they were asked, until it reached the ears of the Bishop, who prohibited it. In truth, if balls or dances were ever so innocent, such dissipation prolonged into the night is incompatible with priestly life.

It would seem, however, from recent decisions that the Holy See means a rather stricter interpretation to be affixed to the law, and although these actual decisions may only bind locally, in the United States and Canada, it seems hardly rash to infer that it is intended to discountenance priests generally from attending or promoting entertainments which include dancing. ⁷³

With respect to the rest of the law, it is difficult to be very precise; but we shall not be far wrong if we adopt a general rule that in every case when a priest is tempted to conceal his priesthood, and adopt a costume which will allow his being taken for a layman, he is on the verge of frequenting "a spectacle unworthy of an ecclesiastic." It can be done with care without breaking the letter of the law about ecclesiastical dress, simply by covering the Roman collar and wearing a dark grey coat; and it has been done in the past by those who wished to attend a spectacle where a Roman collar would be out of place.

In the case of going to a football or cricket ground, especially the latter, to watch the game, the case is wholly different, for we find plenty of Roman collars openly worn. At the time of writing, the war has put an end to the possibility of this pastime for so long a period that one has almost forgotten its fascination. We are even inclined to wonder how we could ever have allowed the first-class cricket scores to have the prominence they once had in our thoughts. For it is not many years ago that the Daily Mail would announce the "sad plight of England" cabled from the Antipodes during a Test Match with as much prominence as is now given to apprehended danger of invasion by the Germans. If cricket ever fully revives, however, there is a good deal to be said in favour of an occasional afternoon at Lord's or the Oval. It gives one fresh air and an amount of occupation not inconsistent with quiet reflection on more serious topics. To watch a game of football is in some ways less desirable, not only because the excitement is more concentrated, but because the general tone of the crowd is rougher. Still, a priest can go in his Roman collar.

It is hardly necessary to point out that the unlawful games alluded to have no relation to our English athletic exercises. The modern counterpart would perhaps be games at cards for high stakes, about which some words have already been said. The question of athletics is a very different one. Cardinal Manning, though himself in his younger days a cricketer, took a stern view of a priest playing. "Can you imagine"—he would say—"going before your Creator for judgment with a chalice in one hand and a cricket bat in the other?" Or again, "Should a priest have time to throw away in running after a piece of leather?" It may be doubted whether he often carried conviction with such arguments. Still, these considerations cannot be wholly put aside. But it would be narrow-minded to make objection to athletics in general, if indulged in with moderation, and in suitable surroundings. Either tennis or cricket may be good for both soul and body, though the latter game exacts so much time that it is only exceptionally within the priest's reach. But the game of golf, so much in vogue in later years, is almost an ideal one as a clerical recreation. In this, however, as in all matters of recreation the personal tastes—and personal attainments—must be the decisive factor. Many have no inclination for athletics after leaving school. They find as they grow older that the exercise which comes naturally with their daily work satisfies their needs, with perhaps an occasional long walk, which they designate a "constitutional"; and often during such "constitutional" they can do some valuable thinking. Some writers do a large part of their composition while out walking.

There is another form of athletics which is capable of great use, or of some abuse—that is, the bicycle. In these days, indeed, it has become so much part of every-day life that many use it simply for the purpose of getting from place to place. But it can also be used on a larger scale to provide an excellent recreation. As a physical exercise indeed, it is exacting, especially when—as will often be the case—the weather is unfavourable, or the wind in the wrong direction, and it is doubtful whether it conduces much physically to health. But it has an admirable power of taking away a man from his daily surroundings and giving him a complete mental change and rest. If the weather is fine, indeed, and the conditions favourable, it tends occasionally to make inroads into our work. But if used judiciously it may be the occasion of much educative interest, and give one some of the advantages of travel which the modern railway transport from point to point fails to give. Mr. Ruskin refused to travel by train, and to be conveyed, as he said, like a parcel. If he had lived in the days of bicycling, he might have found the key to his difficulty. The bicyclist makes close acquaintance with the people and the places through which he travels; he can visit the old churches and interest himself in their history; he can see the various industries and way of life of the people among whom he goes, and so forth. This is still more so if he has a motor-cycle, as his range of country is so largely increased. His interest may be developed by a portable camera; and indeed photography in itself is a capital recreation. So is botany, or geology, or any kind of hobby which a man may take up. And any hobby is to be encouraged. If a man says he has no time to pursue a hobby, he is probably an idle man. One who is keen can make time and this is in every way an advantage.

We can now turn to consider the second synodical law—that against frequenting the theatre—which is not only more precise, but has a heavy penalty attached to its infringement, that the delinquent is ipso facto suspended from his priestly functions and commits a sin reserved to his Bishop. Such a stringent law indicates that the matter is viewed seriously.

The fact is that the Church has always spoken in strong terms against the theatre. Bishop Milner uses his customary violent language in that sense. "Everyone knows," he says, ⁷⁴ "that actors and actresses by the laws of the Church and the particular constitutions of our mission ⁷⁵ are considered as habitual sinners and in a state of damnation, to whom therefore the sacraments are to be denied. Setting aside, then, all other consideration, can any Christian think it lawful by his or her presence or money to assist in keeping these wretches in such a state?" And again, "What are the opinions, the taste, the conduct, and in a word, the lessons which are inculcated by the theatre? I say that the very best modern tragedies exhibit and recommend that pride, ambition, vainglory, impatience, anger and revenge which are the very reverse of our Divine Master's morality inculcated in the eight beatitudes. And with respect to all the comedies and almost all the tragedies, they are made up of the sentiments, the intrigues and the gratification of the concupiscence of the flesh under the specious and all-meaning name of Love."

Probably few would be found to speak in that drastic manner to-day. It is, to say the least, remarkable that the actor's profession seems to contain a greater proportion of Catholics than almost any other, and although we cannot regard it as free from dangers, the activities of the Catholic Stage Guild, and the fact that it is under high ecclesiastical patronage show that the profession is not regarded as in itself illicit. Moreover, those who have come across actors in private life can testify to the fact that a large amount of real goodness exists among them, and that as a class, they are very charitable, and aim at high ideals.

Nevertheless, the considerations put forward by Dr. Milner cannot be too lightly set aside, even under modern conditions. One of the dangers of the stage is that it unconsciously undermines Christian morality, substituting that of the world: extolling pride as a virtue, looking down on the humble as poor-spirited and the like. A Catholic spectator may honestly believe himself to be unharmed, whereas as a fact his hold on Christian principles may have been lowered, and worldly ideals substituted in their place.

It is true indeed that a new stamp of theatrical representation has arisen since the date of Dr. Milner, typified by the Gilbert and Sullivan comic operas, or the burlesques which were so fashionable a generation or two ago. These produce much mirth and recreation, and are free from the danger alluded to. But it is worth noting that it is just these pieces which are most infected with improprieties of dress from which Christian eyes should be kept.

A somewhat similar remark applies to the Italian Opera, which was once the very height of fashion, and still retains a part at least of its former distinction. The plot or libretto takes a comparatively secondary place and does not attract much attention, it being only the setting of the music, which is the chief attraction. But as a set-off, we are frequently brought face to face with a ballet of a most improper nature. Certainly the inference drawn by the ordinary frequenter of the theatre is that such performances are not wrong, and it is prudish to object to them.

And if it be argued that one meets with similar worldly ideals in novels, or even in everyday life, or that the state of the London streets brings similar indecorum before one, the answer is simple: what one meets with by accident in everyday life is one thing; what is put for before us for our admiration and dressed in its most attractive form is a totally different one; and many a man drinks in an idea unthinkingly at the theatre which he would not assimilate in the same way by mixing in everyday life or even by reading a novel. In the case of a regular frequenter of the theatre, we find his whole outlook on life distorted by its morality.