The word on the street is that the Archdiocese of Chicago is about to announce a number of new monsignors among the priests of Chicago.  The term monsignor is an honorary title that traditionally was given to priests because of some accomplishment in the Church or as a reward in the hierarchical system of the priesthood.  Traditionally, there were two kinds of monsignors: Right Reverend Monsignors and Very Reverend Monsignors.  I never quite understood the distinction, but it was apparent that the Very Reverend perhaps were not as reverend as the Right Reverend.  Right Reverend wore red trim on their cassocks and were monsignors for a lifetime.  Very Reverend wore purple trim on their cassocks and the title could be taken away at the end of a pontificate.  Right Reverend Monsignors had roles like that of rectors of seminaries.  The Very Reverend were involved in Archdiocesan offices or were pastors of cathedrals or basilicas.  The custom of naming some priests monsignors fell to the wayside after the Second Vatican Council, but now it is making a comeback.  The meaning of the word monsignor is “my lord”. 

In my first assignment as a deacon, I lived with two monsignors, the retired pastor and the pastor at the time. Sometimes the two monsignors would have too much to drink before dinner. The dinner could be an anxiety producing event for a twenty-five year old learning the ropes.  The pastor of that parish liked being called monsignor.  I, for one, called him monsignor; he was the boss.  But there was an associate pastor there, a middle-aged priest, who one day said to the pastor, “Look, the title monsignor means ‘my lord’.  You are not my Lord.  Jesus is my Lord; you are Don; and I will continue to call you Don.”  The priest calling monsignor “Don” made for some more nervous moments at dinner.

          The Catholic hierarchical system is a curious entity.  When Jesus preached the Reign of God, he called people to gentleness, mercy, service, self-sacrifice, justice, but early on in the church (especially when Constantine not only liberated the Christians from persecution, but made Christianity the state religion) the Church began to take on more and more trappings of Roman hierarchical power.  The papacy, the role of bishops, monsignors, and in some cases priests, began to take on monarchical imagery.  In fact, in terms of cardinals and archbishops, we actually began to speak of princes of the church.  At liturgy, fine expensive vestments were worn that resembled the clothes of monarchs.  “Shepherds”, as bishops should be, walked around with staffs made of gold or which were gold-plated.  They began to wear headgear that resembled crowns.  The leaders of the Church began to dress and act in ways diametrically opposed to the lifestyle Jesus calls us to. 

          I know one of the monsignors that has been appointed in Chicago.  He is a great man and has been a great pastor, but I also know his best friend, who is a great man and has been a great pastor.  Why does one deserve an honorary title more than the other?  Rather than honorary titles, maybe it would have been better for the Church to show appreciation, recognition, and encouragement to priests during their lifetimes.  Perhaps it would have been better for priests’ well-being if they were part of a priesthood that made optional the possibility of marital commitment and intimacy and family life.   Compared to what priests need, the title of “my lord” does not cut it.  Before his death, Cardinal Bernardin lamented about the state of the priesthood in Chicago.  He said sometimes he thought priests could see a brother priest about to fall off a cliff, and instead of rushing to save his life, they would let the priest fall.

          I do not mean to focus too much on the priesthood and the Church around the issues of power and prestige.  These are problems that have infected and do infect almost every organization and institution there is.  Whenever the “self” becomes more important than the common good and the well-being of others, there are problems. 

In the first reading from Sirach and in the gospel, we are called to humility.  What is humility?  I think humility is being yourself.  Humility is not finding self worth in power, position, role, or resources.  Humility is a radical honesty about oneself.  Humility is an acceptance of oneself.  Humility is the realization that true happiness is found in investing the self in other people and in causes greater than the self.

Humble people know themselves.  Humble people grow in an awareness of their giftedness.  Humble people also know their limits.  Humble people know that they are sinners in need of forgiveness from others and from God.  Humble people are, on a regular basis, engaged in self-scrutiny and inventory regarding conscience and also one’s thoughts, feelings, and convictions.  To use the language of positive psychology, humble people are “mindful” people.

I have struggled with the issue of humility in my own life.  At times I had a tendency to confuse humility with poor self-esteem, not liking or appreciating myself, based on my twisted spirituality that that is what God wanted for me.  I now know that God wants me whole and healthy and wants me to care for and love and accept myself as God cares for and accepts me and all people. 

Humility involves self-sacrifice in love for the well-being of others, and issues and causes greater than ourselves.  I see humble self-sacrifice in many of you who are married and have children. 

I find it interesting that Jim Collins, in his book Good to Great, isolates what he calls level 5 leadership as one of the factors contributing to great organizations.  He describes level 5 leaders as people who have professional will.  They are determined people, but he also says that level 5 leadership involves people who live out of personal humility.  In that professional will and personal humility, they have no great need to be the center of attention.  Often they are modest and self-effacing, but when it comes to the organization, they have spines of steel.  They are more interested in the success of the organization than their personal success.  As the organization becomes great, level 5 leaders point to the investment and involvement of other people, rather than their own accomplishments. On the other hand, Collins says, often organizations that fail are led by people with huge ego needs who need to be in control of situations and the organization and place themselves in the center of things to gratify needs for attention, position, resources, and power.   

There are some people who operate out of a theology and spirituality that says ordained priests are ontologically different from the non-ordained.  Ontological refers to on the very level of being.  On the very level of being, the ordained are different from the laity.  Someone asked me recently how I would characterize my priesthood.  I said this, “I have always experienced myself as a  person, a human being first, who happens to be a priest.”  I am not much different from many people.  I deal with both the joys and the pains of being human as you do.  As a priest, I try to reflect on and interpret humanity through the lens of faith and spirituality, through the lens of Jesus Christ and the Reign of God.  There are some who misinterpret my intentions and say that I am ashamed of being a priest or that I am destroying the priesthood.  No, I do not think I could have done anything with my life that would have brought me more meaning than being a priest, but I do not like to see myself as ontologically different from you.  That is why, more often than not, I sign my name Pat Brennan and if I am asked what I like to be called, Father or Pat, I respond, “I prefer Pat”.  I am reminded this week that priests, and all of us, need to practice honesty, self-sacrifice, and connection with our fellow human beings, all of which is involved in humility.

 

In Jesus,

Pat Brennan