Why We Don't Kiss the Rings of Catholic Bishops

A (Major, and, um, Obvious) Reason Catholic Leadership Faces Skepticism

I am fearful that my repeated examination of Harrison Butker’s commencement address at Benedictine College on May 11 might be growing tedious. I have other things to write about, and I’m concerned at this point you would probably have me move on. I will. I promise. But Harrison said a lot, and I haven’t evicted his words from my brain yet.

Today, I offer some thoughts about why it might be difficult for people to place their trust in Catholic Church leadership in the way they once did. First, a portion of Mr. Butker’s speech:

Our bishops once had adoring crowds of people kissing their rings and taking in their every word, but now relegate themselves to a position of inconsequential existence. Now, when a bishop of a diocese or the bishop's conference as a whole puts out an important document on this matter or that, nobody even takes a moment to read it, let alone follow it.

No. Today, our shepherds are far more concerned with keeping the doors open to the chancery than they are with saying the difficult stuff out loud. It seems that the only time you hear from your bishops is when it's time for the annual appeal, whereas we need our bishops to be vocal about the teachings of the Church, setting aside their own personal comfort and embracing their cross. Our bishops are not politicians but shepherds, so instead of fitting in the world by going along to get along, they too need to stay in their lane and lead.

-Harrison Butker

One Sunday morning not long ago - in fact just a couple weeks after Harrison delivered his speech - I was sitting in a pew awaiting the beginning of mass. As we sat, an unassuming form could be seen walking onto the platform. In the low light, the sheen of a white robe seemed to glow from their shoulders. The spotlights on another part of the platform grew stronger and we saw a woman at the lectern.

In a couple of quick sentences she explained the Archdiocese of Baltimore had issued a letter from Bishop Lori to parishioners, and that the letter was to be read by the parish priests before mass. As she completed her short explanation of the change in pre-mass format, the lights which had been on her dimmed, and the lights above the person in white grew bright and illuminated us all as to who it was.

Father Michael White stood before us with paper in hand, looking miserable. As a moderately recent attender at a Catholic church, I was unfamiliar with the robe he was wearing, which was the whitest of whites, yet understated and humble. It was the kind of white robe I used to imagine angels wearing when I was a child.

Father Michael is a somewhat diminutive man when in full health, probably around 5 feet 8 or so inches tall, and of slight build. I’m not sure of his age, but I’d place him somewhere around his late 60’s, perhaps his early 70’s. In recent months it’s become clear he’s been fighting a health issue - sciatica, I’ve been told - and standing is difficult for him. When he delivers his homily he sits on a stool, a cup of water hidden at the ready behind the lectern for what has become an inevitable dry throat coughing spell as he delivers his message.

I like Father Michael. He seems a genuine person. From the seat where I observe him, he appears to be humble with a heart for his church and its people. When he struggles to get through his message, we struggle with him. As he does his best to control his coughing we congregants can be heard clearing our throats throughout the seats in hopes we’re somehow helping, or at least giving him permission to cough as need be.

But as he stood there robed in white before mass even began, it seemed his discomfort wasn’t related to his health. I can’t be sure. I don’t know the man the way I most certainly would know the preacher at past evangelical churches I’ve attended, but my sense was that he didn’t want to be reading the letter he was holding. It seemed to cause him distress. Nonetheless, Catholic Church hierarchy demanded the letter be read, so read it he did.

It was addressing an announcement the Archdiocese of Baltimore had made about churches that would be closing. The closings are the result of the “Seek the City to Come” initiative, a study to see how the Archdiocese of Baltimore can have an effective ministry moving into the future. The obvious implication is that the current operation isn’t effective. The money to sustain the current reality just isn’t there. In an effort to alleviate the financial pressures, the number of parishes will be reduced from 61 to 30.

I’m sure Bishop Lori was hoping the letter would do something to alleviate distress about church closings. I wasn’t experiencing distress, so to speak. Our parish church is thriving and might be considered a mega-mass. If that word makes you think “Mega-church,” then it has done its job. Nativity Church is one of the most evangelical experiences you could ever have at a Catholic mass.¹

There’s an elephant in the room when it comes to the church closings. The elephant is named, “Clergy Sexual Abuse Scandal.” In September of 2023, the archdiocese filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy as the direct result of the scandal. The previous sentence is a lesson in over-simplification. You can find some clarification here. But for me, and scores of others like me, the assumption is that the church closings and the bankruptcy are related. Archbishop Lori insists they are not. From the letter:

Many will suspect that these mergers are related to the Chapter 11 Reorganization filing undertaken by the archdiocese. I assure you; they are not.

Lori goes on to explain that money from future sales of church properties will remain with the parish, and will not be used for settlements with victims of clergy sex abuse. According to the letter, “This is Church law, and it is supported by civil law.”

Fine. But, uh, still...

Let’s back up a bit and remember something important.

For decades Catholic priests and brothers² engaged in sexual abuse and molestation of people in its community, mostly children. Church procedure stipulated that claims of sexual abuse be handled by bishops. In Baltimore, over the span of an 80-year period there were more than 600 claims of abuse against more than 150 priests. Baltimore wasn’t alone. In Boston, one priest alone had 130 claims against him. He was simply shuffled from parish to parish. The pattern was: Abuse → Allegation → Cover-up.

Sure, it was not all priests, and it was not all Bishops. But it was a widespread, diabolical, country-wide³ failure of church leadership to protect its most vulnerable people - children.

I can’t disagree with Butker’s statement about bishops seeming to have an inconsequential existence. I just think he’s not considering the reasons for the current situation. When church leadership operates in ways that perpetuates child sexual abuse, it loses credibility. It’s the the whole “fool me once…” paradigm. It’s a trust issue. How are parishioners expected to place trust in a document as important, when the people who used to write those documents forgot or ignored what was really important?

The health, safety and wellbeing of children.

It’s somewhat baffling that someone would expect to go back to ring-kissing in light of decades of abuse.

Thanks for reading! The most effective way to help others find my writing is to share this article with your friends and family.

---

If you missed them, here are the first two articles I offered in response to Mr. Butcker’s speech.

1. When Father Michael first arrived at Nativity Church it was struggling. Frustrated, Father Michael looked to other religious leaders for advice. He and his associate pastor got on a flight to southern California to a conference at the protestant, evangelical mega-church Saddleback Church. Saddleback is the church led by Pastor Rick Warren who authored both Purpose-Driven Life and Purpose-Driven Church. They applied his expert knowledge to Nativity Church and experienced a turnaround. Father Michael and Pastor Warren remain good friends, and Father Michael has authored several books in the fashion of Warren’s Purpose Driven series.

2. Other people of leadership in the church laity.

3. Actually, it’s a worldwide problem.