We’re all guilty, at least many of us whose job it is to report or comment on the Catholic Church. Let’s just admit it: we are obsessed with bishops.
It seems like they are almost always the main focus or at least a significant part of whatever we write or talk about.
And why not? Bishops are considered “successors of the apostles by divine institution”.
They are “teachers of doctrine, priests of sacred worship and ministers of government”. These are the men who have been entrusted by God (what else is divine institution?) with the “function of ruling” the Church (cf. Code of Canon Law, no. 375).
The bishops are the “high priests” of Catholicism, marked out as the “principal dispensers of the mysteries of God” (can. 853). Wow! Talk about powerful and important people!
The bishops possess almost all the authority in the Church, as well.
They often delegate this to others, but there is nothing in the law that obliges them to do so.
In fact, no significant changes can take place in our life of worship, and no important personnel moves can be made without their consent.
Certainly, in the case of diocesan ordinaries, the bishops have the final say in all the consequential matters pertaining to the local faith community.
Like an absolute monarch
And then there’s our obsession with the “super-bishop”, the Bishop of Rome. Commonly called by his non-juridical title “the pope” (or referenced devotionally as the Holy Father), he is canonically designated as the Roman or Supreme Pontiff.
He “enjoys supreme, full, immediate and universal ordinary power in the Church, which he can always freely exercise” (can. 331).
In fact, “there is neither appeal nor recourse against a decision or decree of the Roman Pontiff” (can. 333§3).
The pope is at the pinnacle of a power structure that exists only in absolute monarchies (of which there are few remaining today) or dictatorships.
Theologically, of course, the Bishop of Rome is not a super-bishop. But in the early centuries of Christianity, various popes steadily expanded their juridical authority over other local Churches and, soon enough, the imperial (monarchical) papacy was fully established.
If the people and clergy of the local Christian communities once elected the bishops — that is, when temporal rulers weren’t the ones choosing them –, today, it’s the pope who “freely appoints bishops or confirms those who have been legitimately elected” (can. 377§1).
Most bishops do not want to act like a dictator, but they are working under intense pressure in a system where the buck really does stop with them.
Supreme administrator and supreme judge
What about the so-called “temporal goods” of the Church? “By virtue of his primacy in governance, the Roman Pontiff is the supreme administrator and steward of all ecclesiastical goods” (can. 1273).
If a local bishop wants to sell church properties, depending on their monetary or cultural value and provenance (e.g. if they were bequeathed these properties), he needs the approval of the Apostolic See. Also called the Holy See, this is really just another name for the Roman papacy.
And when it comes to judicial matters, if “the diocesan bishop is the judge in the first instance in each diocese and for all cases not expressly excepted by law” (can. 1419§1), it’s the pope who is “the supreme judge for the entire Catholic world”. He can try or adjudicate cases personally or through the tribunals of the Apostolic See (cf. canon 1442).
You’ve probably noticed that the Code of Canon Law likes to use that word “supreme” when referring to the pope and his authority.
So, yes, he and his fellow bishops are a pretty big deal in the Catholic Church.
And it should be no surprise that they get a lot of press.
But for a long time now, it’s usually not been very flattering for many of these “successors of the apostles”.
Being a bishop is an uncomfortable fit for most bishops, and their people.
A broken model
The problem is that almost all these men come from societies that are more or less considered democracies.
But they are trying to “shepherd” the people of their dioceses within a structure that is juridically top-down and quasi-monarchical.
This is an uncomfortable fit for most of them and their people.
I imagine most bishops do not want to act like a dictator, but they are working under intense pressure in a system where the buck really does stop with them.
Those who appear to be the most effective bishops are the ones who are not afraid to delegate their authority generously and empower others.
But how many do this?
Since all responsibility for whatever happens ultimately rests with them, there seem to be too many bishops who are careful about how they share their power.
It doesn’t matter whether that is out of a noble sense of duty or out of fear of losing control; it’s often a recipe for disaster.
There are those bishops who believe they must constantly “correct” those in their charge who deviate even slightly from the most insignificant Church law or teaching.
Their zeal to always be in charge leads them to do things that end up having a demoralising effect on their people and their priests.
The recent “Catholic Project” survey, which showed that most priests in the United States have serious trust issues with their bishops, is proof of this.
And the situation is probably not much different among priests in a lot of other countries.
On the other hand, the US bishops — at least as a national episcopal conference — may not accurately represent the Catholic hierarchy around the world.
During their conference assembly last week, they elected new leaders who are either in opposition to the pastoral priorities Pope Francis has set forth, such as dialoguing with all in society and accompanying people on the margins, or who have given those priorities a lukewarm reception.
That goes for the pope’s efforts to implement synodality at all levels of the Church.
The very idea of synodality can find no home in a top-down, monarchical system where only a tiny group of celibate men ultimately make all the decisions.
Is synodality the answer to the problem?
On the whole, the bishops in the United States are among those — and there are probably many of their peers in other parts of the world, too — who have shown little interest in the wide-ranging consultations with all the baptised members of the Church that are a key part of the synodal process.
The response of the US bishops to those consultations, which were held very unevenly throughout their country, was seen by many who are not exactly in the bishops’ cheering section as surprisingly honest and reflective of the general mood of US Catholics.
The synodal process has really only just begun. It is in its fledgling stages, and there is still a lot of ambivalence, scepticism and even hostility towards it.
But if it does actually begin to take root in the Church and the hierarchy finds itself having to be in ongoing dialogue — even debate — with the People of God, it will be near impossible to simply ignore or easily reject the calls for change and reform it is surfacing.
Obviously, the very idea of synodality can find no home in a top-down, monarchical system where only a tiny group of celibate men ultimately make all the decisions.
But if it does become constitutive of the Church, as Pope Francis says it must, then the Church’s current structure will have to be changed. Because otherwise, synodality will end up being nothing but an empty slogan, even a farse, if — for example — the Catholic faithful continue to be denied a say in how their bishops are selected.
And that includes the Supreme Pontiff himself, the Bishop of Rome.
- Robert Mickens is LCI Editor in Chief.
- First published in La-Croix International. Republished with permission.