Married Converts Find Vocation In Catholic Priesthood
SINCE 1981, on a case-by-case basis, one-time Protestants have become Roman Catholic priests, easing the church's shortage of clergymen, but raising eyebrows among ex-priests who sacrificed their vocations in order to wed.
After weekday Mass, the three older women chatted with Slider Steuernol at the back of St. Henry's Church, passing time before heading out into the pouring rain. Steuernol mentioned that, at any moment, he was about to become a grandfather.
"It would be like my daughter to give birth on a day like today," he said.
The women laughed, and showered him with congratulations. One woman jokingly suggested Stormy for the child's name. Steuernol smiled and said that he would pass the idea on to his daughter. Another woman announced that she recently became a grandmother to twins.
As the women cheerfully left the Catholic church in suburban Portland, no one at all seemed fazed by the oddness of the exchange and that the man who just announced his imminent grandfatherhood is their parish priest.
Steuernol, a 53-year-old former Presbyterian minister who converted to Catholicism, is the newest priest ordained by the Archdiocese of Portland. He is the second married priest ordained this year in the Northwest after Pope John Paul II granted exceptions to the church's mandatory celibacy rule. In July, Father Scott Medlock, a former Methodist pastor with three children, was ordained in Anchorage.
While church officials have downplayed the ordinations, making sure to note that they are exceptions to the rule, there are now a small but growing number of married priests within the Catholic Church in the U.S. Since 1981, about 80 married ministers have been allowed to become Catholic priests by the Vatican.
Their presence has fanned the hopes of those who support a reversal of the Roman Catholic Church's centuries-old rules on priestly celibacy and fueled the campaign for reinstatement among former Catholic priests who left the priesthood to do what the newcomers have already done: get married.
Conservative Catholics, meanwhile, may accept the exceptions to the celibacy rules, but remain unconvinced that a married priesthood is either preferable or inevitable.
"The celibacy and the priesthood go very well together," said Father Phil Bloom, pastor of White Center's Holy Family Church. "To lose celibacy would be a great loss, although it's obviously a difficult thing to be celibate."
Although Bloom welcomes the converts and acknowledges the church's need for more priests, he believes that the celibate priesthood should remain the ideal.
"There's no question that a married man can serve people just as well," Bloom said. "But the spiritual relationship a celibate priest can have with his people is unique. My parish is the most important thing in my life. A married man's center of focus is his wife and family. The spiritual relationship would be different."
In the Catholic Church, discussions over the celibacy rules have become inextricably intertwined with another issue - the declining number of priests. It is the shortage of priests, after all, that has helped to open doors to the converted ministers, particularly in the Northwest.
At the root of that shortage, many contend, is the celibacy rule. It has discouraged young men from entering seminaries and driven away priests who want to marry. With rules being bent to allow in the married, converted priests, former priests are hoping the doors will open wide enough to also allow for their return.
The Northwest's new married priests, meanwhile, find themselves awkwardly thrust in the middle of a family squabble in their new home. They know the official church position laid out by the same pope who allowed for their ordination, while being keenly aware of the frustrations of their brethren priests.
`I was hungry for God'
In his office at St. Henry in early December, Steuernol picked up a framed photograph of his family. It's a shot from a family hike, and his wife, Jacque, two daughters, Ashli, 24, Kristi, 21, and son Tim, 17, are smiling brightly into the camera. Steuernol marveled that the photo had turned out so well, clearly pleased with the portrait he snapped.
Five days earlier, on Nov. 30, Steuernol had been ordained in the Portland Archdiocese, the end of an 11-year journey that began when he attended a retreat at a Trappist abbey in Oregon. There, he found spiritual rejuvenation through his study of the spiritual life of Christian saints and the exposure to a different, more contemplative, form of prayer.
"I had reached a plateau in my life where I was hungry for God," he said. "I felt the wellspring of my spiritual life was dry. I came back from that retreat refreshed."
He continued to lead a Presbyterian church in neighboring Fairview, but eventually decided to convert. Five years ago, after meetings with church leaders, he was interviewed by former Archbishop William Levada, who agreed to champion his petition to become a priest.
A papal dispensation waived the celibacy edicts for converted ministers from other Christian religions to become Catholic priests.
Steuernol believes the archbishop's support was rooted partly in pragmatism.
"One reason was the priest shortage in the diocese," he said. "There are fewer and fewer priests and there is more and more need."
Steuernol resigned from his congregation in January 1994. On the day after giving his last sermon at the church he had served as pastor for more than a decade, he joined the Catholic Church. He entered the Mount Angel Seminary later that month. The following year, he learned that the pope had approved his petition for ordination.
A warm Alaska welcome
Medlock's journey to Catholic priesthood has followed a similar path. He has had an interest in the Catholic Church ever since he was an undergraduate student at Notre Dame, a Catholic university.
Later, after marrying a Catholic, he attended Mass with her and raised their three children as Catholics.
He first began making inquiries about becoming a Catholic priest when he and his family lived in Maryland, where he pastored a Methodist church. But the cardinal of the Baltimore Archdiocese ultimately decided that he would not sponsor married converts for priesthood, partly to avoid upsetting the Methodist church and members of his own ranks, Medlock said.
Medlock eventually found a sponsor in Anchorage Archbishop Francis Hurley, head of an archdiocese with a shortage of priests more severe than in Oregon.
Medlock, 42, and his wife, Maria Elena, and their three children, Aaron, 13, Matthew, 11, and Angela, 8, moved to Alaska in 1992. He worked for the archdiocese while waiting to hear about his petition.
Since their ordination, both men say they have been warmly welcomed into the fold.
"The reaction in the laity has been all that I could hope for," Medlock said. "I've been wholly embraced by the people of the archdiocese and the priests of the archdiocese."
Support from ex-priests
The appearance of married priests from other faiths also has been welcomed by a group of former priests who suffered a crisis of faith about their vocation.
"We applaud any move in the direction of restoring a married priesthood in the Catholic Church," said Pat Callahan, a board member of the national Corps of Reserve Priests United for Service, or CORPUS. The group, which has pushed for lifting the celibacy ban, is made up largely of priests who left the church, many of them to get married. "I think it's a healthy move as far as it goes."
But while the ordinations are "a step in the right direction," Callahan said they also reflect a "double standard."
"Why accept this shift in direction for them while we are excluded?" said Callahan, a member of St. Therese Parish. "We would like to see that fairness extended to us."
Callahan, a priest in the Seattle Archdiocese for 15 years before leaving active priesthood in 1983 and marrying, said the celibacy rule is the main reason most priests leave the church. In the past 20 years, 30 of the 250 priests who served in the archdiocese have resigned. Half of those who left eventually married, according to the Seattle Archdiocese.
Nationally, about 20,000 priests have left active ministry in the past 30 years, according to Callahan.
Many men begin contemplating priesthood before they're mature enough to fully assess the ramifications of their choices and vows, setting up a later crisis, said Callahan.
"Everyone kids about the midlife crisis, but when I hit 40, I started to feel a real emptiness and loneliness and thirst for a relationship," he said.
By doing away with the celibacy rules, the church would eliminate the primary reason for its priest shortage, Callahan said.
As in Alaska and Oregon, that shortage is felt acutely in the Seattle Archdiocese where some parishes are served by teams of priests, and some priests serve multiple parishes. A dozen parishes are led by lay pastoral life directors who are not permitted to perform the most important priestly duties, including presiding at weddings, anointing the sick and saying the Eucharistic prayer.
Last year, there were 163 priests assigned to parishes in the archdiocese. By 2010, that number is expected to drop to 110, largely because of anticipated retirements.
Mary Beth Celio, director of research for the Seattle Archdiocese, said there are now 367,500 registered Catholics, up from 290,000 in 1984-85. With the anticipated population influx expected into the region, Celio projects that, by 2010, the number of Catholics will grow another 100,000 persons.
The rationale behind celibacy
Theologians trace the practice of celibacy back to the earliest days of the church, and the teachings of the apostles, particularly St. Paul, a celibate missionary who encouraged those who wanted to serve God to follow his lead. But during the church's first 12 centuries, there were married priests. Priestly celibacy only became the rule in the Middle Ages, when abuses prompted a wave of reforms.
By living a celibate life, priests, in effect, give their lives fully to their parishes and the church; they become spiritually wedded to God and their ministry. But priestly celibacy is a discipline, not a rule rooted in Catholic theology. Because it's not an infallible doctrine, it can be changed.
That change, however, is not likely to happen during the current papacy. Pope John Paul II has granted exceptions, but he has taken a firm position against lifting the rule.
Among priests, however, there is support for change. Last year, 62 of the approximately 185 priests at a meeting in Fife signed a statement asking that discussions about married and women priests continue while the archdiocese looked for solutions to the priest-shortage problem.
"I've found that priests are pretty open to a married priesthood and would even welcome it," Steuernol said. "I'd say the majority of priests feel that way."
The frustrations of former priests who want to resume their vocation, and priests who would like the ability to get married, have placed the two men in an awkward spot. Medlock has heard that in parts of the country some priests resent their married colleagues.
"I have not experienced resentment in the Archdiocese of Anchorage, which is not to say it's not there," Medlock said.
Asked if he supported a change in the rules, Steuernol answered cautiously.
"I support Pope John Paul and where he is," he said. "But if he changed the rule, I would support that, too. It would certainly help the vocation; there's such a problem with shortage. The pope has made his position clear, yet he's open to this sort of thing. It's a paradox."
Medlock sympathizes with the priests who have had to leave the church to get married.
He said he would favor a change as long as celibate priesthood continues to be affirmed and supported. He believes change is probably inevitable.
"All priests, celibate and married, bring their unique gifts to the priesthood," Medlock said. "And it's important to affirm that celibacy is a great gift to the church, and the vocation of marriage is a gift to the church. Both bring something very unique."
Bloom, of White Center's Holy Family Church, feels just as strongly about the need to affirm celibacy.
"Celibacy is a gift from God and it's a gift to God. I feel that God is calling me to celibacy and to the priesthood," Bloom said. "For me, celibacy is not just part of the fine print. If there is a change, my hope is that there will be a way for celibacy to continue and be respected."
The church moves slowly
Even the most optimistic proponents of change concede that change will not likely happen during the tenure of Pope John Paul II.
"The church is very traditional and moves very slowly," said Father Peter Chirico, a retired theologian in the Seattle Archdiocese. "But the church has been around for 2,000 years and it has survived 2,000 years because it knew how to adapt to change. But it's very slow to give up things that have stood for a long time."
But the presence of married priests in the church can't help but have an impact on the church, Chirico said.
The church, meanwhile, has given married priests lower-profile duties, usually with special ministries, like working with prison populations. They are also not allowed to become pastors, who have the responsibility for providing spiritual leadership and guidance to their parish.
"They don't want us in the limelight too much because they don't want confusion among the people," Steuernol said. "A bishop would be very much in the limelight. It makes sense to me; I'm just very happy to be a priest."
Both Steuernol and Medlock, however, have been assigned to parish work, acting essentially as assistant pastors.
Among U.S. Catholics, there's widespread support for the idea of married priests. Earlier this year, Catholics were asked in a nationwide Gallup Poll about qualities wanted in the next pope. Sixty-nine percent of the respondents wanted a pope who would allow married priests.
"The ordination of married priests has certainly opened up a question, and it will drive the issue to some extent," said William Donohue, president of the conservative Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights, a New York City-based antidefamation organization. "I personally don't have a problem with it."
In a survey commissioned by the organization last year, 60 percent of the respondents said they were not opposed to the idea of married priests, Donohue said. The survey found more support for the idea of married priests than for changes in the church's positions on the ordination of women, birth control and abortion.
Callahan said that his group's surveys of the laity have found about 80 percent favored lifting the celibacy requirements.
"Everyone sees that having married priests is a positive step," said Kathryn Anderson, a member of Steuernol's parish in Gresham, Ore. "Once the bishops and the cardinals feel that this can work and once they see that maybe a married priest can do the job better because he experiences what the rest of us experience, then maybe change can come."
Steve Jones, director of youth ministries at St. Henry, said the community has been very accepting.
"I think the kids sense it's a good thing," he said. These kids are experiencing a broader sense of what the church can be."
But in the long run, exposure may not necessarily translate into acceptance, Chirico said. Married priests will have responsibilities to their families that could limit their work with their parishes, and some parishioners may see the value of having priests without families.
Celio, the Seattle Archdiocese's research director, also questions the wisdom of taking on both parish work and family.
"I cannot imagine being responsible to the needs of both a family and a parish," she said. "Something has to give and what often has to give is the family. It's a phenomenally difficult role. The good priests I know give their life to their parish. It's not a job. It's a vocation."
Medlock and Steuernol have no doubt that they can do both.
And both men remain overjoyed that they've been given the rare opportunity to be both married and a priest.
"Married life should not be viewed as conflicting with the priesthood," Medlock said. "My experience is that it's highly complementary to my priesthood. It's a great gift to my priesthood."