The Teflon Episcopacy

A few weeks ago I was talking to a rather intelligent canonist with a tendency for making very blunt statements. It’s one reason out of many that I love him. We pass each other a lot of books and articles, and I have benefited a lot from his wisdom over the years. A few months ago, he shared with me something that is relatively common knowledge, that at the USCCB meetings in Washington, someone or some group of people has been renting or buying a huge inflatable pony or unicorn and placing it in the lobby of the USCCB for their biannual General Meetings in the spring and autumn. It makes for a great gag, a lot of visitors find it rather humorous, but apparently it is infuriating to the upper brass. The point, ostensibly, is to make a bit of fun of the fact that non-credentialed people can’t get in the door. There was a time not too long ago when it was not very difficult to have ‘access’ to Bishops, whether at the USCCB or elsewhere. In the past decade or so, however, meetings of Bishops feel less like the private study of Saint Ambrose and more like a compound of Koresh’s Branch Davidians.

It is extremely important for Pastors of Souls to have access to the souls entrusted to their care. Pope Francis most famously remarked about the need about having the “smell of the sheep”, and has routinely decried “airport bishops” who do not abide with their people. This problem has been a constant one in Church history; people often like to travel, and those with means to do so, do. The problem, of course, is not travel on its own, but when that leads to neglect of one’s duties.

There is another practice which is, unfortunately, quite ancient. It’s the practice of the “fall guy.” American Culture is probably the most litigious culture to ever have existed in human history. We will sue for the most frivolous and solemn motivatons. A lot of this tendency comes from the atavistic human need for a scapegoat. If something bad has happened or is happening, we need someone or something to blame for it. Something has to change, or someone has to be punished. When this human desire for retribution is joined to a naive belief in human perfectability, the cure can be worse than the disease.

What modernity has added to this strange and potentially toxic mixture is the adoption of en masse insurance/liability coverage. Insurance coverage is an ancient practice, and arguably a very good one for people and for business. Yet ancient peoples understood better the concept of force majeure, what we basically call today an ‘act of God’, something which is beyond the human control of two contracting parties. As we have advanced more and more technologically, our assertion of what we can control has increased, and therefore, the scope of our liability has also increased. This is a dangerous and also costly (and therefore, for some, lucrative) development.

This brings us to the Church today. In the wake of of the tsunami of lawsuits after the abuse crisis, but even before it began, we began to have problems. Slowly at first, but then they began to increase. The Church has always had trouble with wayward clergy. We have always had our methods to discipline and correct, to inspire repentance and change. These were largely in accordance with the Gospel and our morals, as enshrined in the Code of Canon Law. Neither the Law nor our implementation has ever been perfect. Yet there has never been a question that we had the right and the obligation to manage our affairs.

There have been a few points of departure, however, from yesteryear. First, the Second Vatican Council’s ‘hyperdulia’ of the office of the Episcopacy, itself meant as a corrective to the excesses of Vatican I’s Ultramontanism, has now created a situation where the Bishops of the world face increasing confusion in regard to what unites them, but also in regard to what distinguishes them. It is a key feature of the mindvirus known as Modernism to call ‘unity’ what they really mean as ‘uniformity’, while they fail to make distinctions that matter. This is one reason they loathe Thomistic analysis. Pope Francis has tried to create a synodal mentality among the worlds bishops, which was something that even the young Father Ratzinger, then a peritus at the Second Vatican Council, studied at length, lest we forget. Yet even as Pope Francis has tried to create this atmosphere of “parrhesia” and synodality, there have been decisions which, to any objective observer, may be considered in poor judgment. But this ‘style’ of episcopal leadership does not come from nothing. Some may call the Francis Pontificate ‘Peronist’, and there may be something to that. But it is far worse than that. It is a style that began in the 50s and 60s, which has now been honed and perfected into what my colleague called the “Teflon Episcopate”.

I once heard an experienced prelate lament that the days have passed when Bishops had the power of “discretion.” By that he meant to say that a Bishop could make truly independent judgments regarding matters in his own jurisdiction, from closing and opening parishes, moving clergy, and so on. My response was, if that time has indeed passed, it is only because the Bishops have surrendered their own agency. This began as a honey trap, and now, those chains are made of iron. The 1950s, right after the war, many of the psychiatric hospitals which treated Priests and Religious were founded, and along with the budding science of psychology, many Bishops were promised that their men, often veterans saddled with the undiagnosed dramas of war, could be helped. The screening of candidates according to psychology was still in its infancy, and it is true, we understood very little about what we would call the discipline of Criminology today, let alone related fields. What I find baffling about these times is that, even when clerics were committing crimes, and Bishops knew about it, they knew what they had to do: the Canons were clear. But they didn’t do anything. We know now that was supposed to have been done to ‘protect the institution’ and ‘avoid scandal’. But we also know from various reports from the civil press that there was a significant amount of collusion from the secular authorities.

From doing nothing, to doing something, is quite a sea change. But the “something” was to fall back on what I established earlier: psychology, what is prosecutable, and what is insurable. I don’t think anyone would see a problem with a Bishop gathering counsel so that he can make an informed decision on anything. It is wise to seek advice on things. But when money is involved, it is important to be aware of conflicts of interest and ‘risk-maximalization’, and also how any good scam artist takes advantage of the greatest and fastest acting solvent of human reason: fear.

The fact that the Bishops were afraid when they created the Dallas Charter in 2002 is a truism. Every human fear was invoked against them: fear of shame, fear of bankruptcy, fear of prison, fear of the unknown. Haste is always the enemy of prudence, and although sometimes actions must be taken swiftly, haste is often the tool grifters use to force bad decisions. Here again, the Dallas Charter is another example of a document where the Bishops didn’t really have to do anything but sign on the dotted line. In conjunction with the John Jay Report on Criminal Justice, they consulted with lawyers to create a document that would take away from them most agency going forward, and hopefully, protect them, first and foremost, and then secondly, their dioceses. Victims and their needs were said to be the first cause of the Charter, but if I may indulge some Thomism, they were the Material Cause. The Bishops were the Formal Cause. The Lawyers were the Instrumental Cause.

Teflon as a chemical was hailed almost as a domestic miracle substance because it did not require too much ‘elbow-grease’ to clean pots and pans. But we know that when exposed to high heat and to lots of use, as it begins to break off and enter food, it is highly carcinogenic. The Dallas Charter was the miracle teflon of the American Church, and its provisions, both in substance and in attitude, have been repeated for the past twenty years throughout the Western World. The Dallas Charter basically allowed Bishops to allow themselves and their Dioceses to almost effortlessly remain clean from contamination, all spot and wrinkle. You would think this was the image of St. John, the Immaculate Bride of Christ, the New Jersualem come down from Heaven, but you would be mistaken. This is the cubic zirconia to the true diamond.

Not only has the Risk Management Complex, of which the Dallas Charter is a part, been extremely effective at keeping dirt off the Bishops personal and corporate image, it has been extremely expensive. It is not an exaggeration to place this number in the hundreds of millions. And that is what we know about publically. In the meantime, a machine is running which is trampling on the rights of Priests, and yes, even some Bishops. The recent removal of Bishop Strickland is a clear signal that now the time is come for Saturn to return to devour his own sons.

Returning to the image and questions posed at the beginning of this essay, we have to ask. If things are so good with the Bishops: why are they so hard to get a hold of nowadays? Why is it so hard to get them to respond to questions? Why is it so hard for Priests to meet with their Ordinary? Why is it, for instance, that the National Survey from Summer 2022 showed such a massive disconnect of trust between Bishops and their Priests, where less than a third of Priests would trust their Ordinaries with a personal problem, while over two thirds of Bishops said they could be trusted? The number one problem related on the survey was the malaise in morale among the Priests, and the feeling that they are only as good as their last Mass. The fact that the Bishops were so disconnected from that reality shows how disinterested they must be. The results of that survey were barely mentioned at the USCCB. It is like the inflatable unicorn in the lobby: it will be there, strange and inconvenient.

But the problem is not a cheerful one, and it is certainly not an abstract one. We may laugh at a light prank, but the price of a teflon episcopate is a very, very messy presbyterate. A saying comes to mind about deritus flowing downhill. Also, a teflon episcopate is one that increasingly commands no respect, neither from the world nor from the Church. It is so sad to see our capacities degraded like this. In Africa and Asia, many our Bishops are very bold and courageous for the rights of their people and their Priests. In the West, they seem scared of their own shadow.

A person may be asking at this point whether I am advocating the abolition of the Dallas Charter or some sort of return to the pre-Vatican II Church. The answer to both is no. But I do think it takes courage and wisdom to know when there has been an overcorrection that requires a more quiet, measured response. People today talk about “taking back your power” in the Marxist sense, and although I loathe Marxism, there is a sense of truth to it. Some people only do things because they can get away with them. There are a few things that do need to happen which I would like to spell out.

First, Bishops need to stop being afraid of talking with their Priests. They need to stop being afraid of having hard conversations. I know it may be hard to do this in big Dioceses, especially when a presbyterate is large. But the truth is that the trust differential between chancery and most presbyterates is massive, and that cannot be corrected without good will efforts on the part of the Bishop. Bishops need to show that they are not afraid of being “notable and quotable” by their Priests, on things that matter to them, and that there is follow-through.

Second, the chanceries and their services need to be less a police station and more a social service resource, or better yet, a help hotline. When Priests say things to their superiors, the presumption must not be, and cannot be, that they are always and everywhere the guilty party. And when Priests do or say things that they shouldn’t, Bishops need to rediscover a sense of proportionality, and impartiality. Not everything needs to be punished severely. Special classes of clergy within a presbyterate, where some get away with anything, and others are severely treated, is toxic to fraternal unity and to a sense of common mission.

Third, I really do think chancery officials need some form of pastoral ministry. They need to feel some of the same demands the average Priest feels, because they are in large part protected from many of the day to day hazards and complaints that we get. They often get to pass judgment on us, and manage our lives, while remaining beyond the reach of things which we encounter everyday.

In summary, to stop being a Teflon Bishop, stop treating your Priests like disposable pots and pans. Start acting like a Christian, and start having a Catholic Ontology of the Priesthood. No retreat or clergy conference can undo what Priests see day in and day out as a lived reality in their Diocese. To shed your teflon skin, sometimes things have to stick to you. It’s part of being human. And sometimes part of being human is being hurt and being betrayed. But also is sharing the grace and mercy of Jesus Christ. I hope and pray for all our sakes that our superiors will choose cast-iron and steel over teflon; the human and the divine, over the artificial and the manufactured.