A parish dismissal: tough decisions in Rochester.

It may be symbolic that Bernard McQuaid, the crusty nineteenth-century bishop of Rochester, New York, departed the First Vatican Council before the vote on papal infallibility (July 18, 1870). The present-day diocese of Rochester seems to be playing out yet another "departure from Rome." On August 15, 1998, the pastor of Corpus Christi Parish in Rochester, Father James Callan, announced at the Saturday evening Mass that, at the insistence of Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, he had been "fired" from the position he had held for twenty-two years. Contrary to Callan's claim, Matthew Clark, the bishop of Rochester, has stated unequivocally that Callan's "reassignment" was his (Bishop Clark's) decision alone.

In an op-ed piece in the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle (August 18), Callan cited the reasons for his dismissal: his ministry to women, Protestants, and gays. At Corpus Christi, the parish associate, Mary Ramerman, assists at the Eucharist in vestments and all Christians are welcomed to the Communion table. Early on, Corpus Christi became known as the church from which to bury victims of AIDS. Beyond these facts, it has been suggested, without clear corroboration, that Callan officiated at gay marriages. Evidently Jews, non-Christians, and nonbelievers were invited to Communion. Mary Ramerman's vestments included a stole, the official mark of ecclesiastical offices not open to women.

Reaction in Rochester has been almost universally pro-Callan, who is viewed as the victim of narrow-minded authoritarianism. That the story is more complex may be illustrated from the fact that Michael Mascaluso, leader of the conservative Catholic Citizens for a Decent Community, has also sided with Callan. Mascaluso believes that Callan is a mere scapegoat; the real sinner is Bishop Clark, whose removal from the diocese has been a focus of Mascaluso's repeated petitions to Rome. To Mascaluso, it is the bishop who has been too forthcoming in his ministry to women, gays, and Protestants.

Shortly after coming to Rochester, Clark issued an extended and sensitive pastoral letter, "Fire in the Thornbush," on the problems experienced by women in the church. He has been quoted in the past as saying that he would gladly ordain women if that were permitted. In November 1997, Bishop Clark held a special service for gays, lesbians, and their parents at the cathedral. The service was packed to overflowing, the bishop was applauded for his sermon - but he was greeted as he left the cathedral by Masculuso and his group protesting the apparent condoning of serious sin. As for ecumenical outreach, Bishop Clark has established a covenant relation with the Episcopal church, and a formal agreement with the Jewish community to combat anti-Semitism and anti-Catholicism as well as to share resources on mutual social concerns.

Having lived in Rochester for ten years, I know both Bishop Clark and Father Callan. Both are individuals of real stature and moral sensitivity. The issue at hand is one of fundamental ecclesiology. Where is the church? Start with the parish. Twenty-two years ago Jim Callan had refused to accept the "luxury" of living in a parish house. After first suspending him from priestly duties, then Bishop Joseph Hogan finally assigned him as assistant to the dying urban parish of Corpus Christi where the pastor was in failing health. In his book, Can't Hold Back the Spring: The Blossoming of Corpus Christi Church (Mercury Print Productions, 1997), Callan recounts the resurrection of Corpus. Establishing a whole range of vigorous ministries to the poor, prisoners, refugees, the homeless, the parish went on to welcome all manner of the "marginalized": alienated youth, the physically or mentally handicapped, then, of course, women and gays who had many reasons to think of themselves as "marginalized" by official decree and dogma. The end result is an enthusiastic parish which has grown from 200 to 4,000 devoted parishioners, a parish which has rallied to Callan's side in the current crisis, demanding his reinstatement. (About half the "parishioners" are non-Catholics.)

During our time in Rochester, Corpus Christi was certainly our favorite place of worship. Whenever we had non-Catholic friends visiting - or when we wanted to prove to our own children that church need not be deadly dull - we went to Corpus. Mass at Corpus Christi was a happening: a rousing gospel choir with a splendid black leader at the piano, a kiss of peace that was a universal hug-in lasting for ten minutes or more. Jim Callan may be the best Mass presider I have ever experienced. He had a way of speaking the liturgy which communicated to the congregation as a parent at a Thanksgiving feast might recall some special, happy memory. Jim presided and he consecrated; that Mary Ramerman in vestments also raised her hand to accompany the lifting of the chalice seemed a sign of openness. I didn't exactly notice the stole.

So what was Callan doing that could result in "firing"/"reassignment"? The question requires understanding church doing. Take the Eucharist: The priest pronounces the words of consecration which proclaim the bread and wine as Christ. The words of consecration are what the philosophers call a "performative" utterance. A performative utterance doesn't describe, it does something. If I say "I promise," I have done it - I have promised. It is not the words alone that do the deed - that would be magic. For performatives to perform, there has to be some established community that gives standing, authority to the utterance. Don Quixote, wishing to be knighted, seeks the ministration of the local tavern keeper. "I dub thee 'Knight of the Woeful Countenance'!" says the accommodating barkeep - but, alas, no knighting is actually accomplished. In the Callan situation, if in fact there were "gay marriages" performed, these would be as empty as the Don's claim to knighthood. The law recognizes no such thing as gay marriages, so whatever the words uttered and worthy sentiments expressed, there just is no marriage. Society and institutions may change, but as of this moment, a "gay marriage" can only be a political statement, not a reality.

Similar considerations would apply to Mary Ramerman's stole. Does wearing the stole convey any real authority? Is it an empty gesture like the sadly comic knighting of Quixote? (Or is it a symbolic recognition beyond all authority, like our recognition that the Don is truly noble in his very madness?) Eucharist to all? Is not everyone invited to Christ's table? Karl Rahner acknowledged the "anonymous Christian." Yes, but if individuals consciously reject any authority in the utterance which consecrates, it is not clear whether it is gracious or demeaning to invite them to partake of the central Christian sacrament.

There is no simple explanation of how performative gestures take hold. In Corpus Christi Parish there does exist a community which grants an "authority" to Ramerman's stole. But is Corpus Christi the church? The parish in its protest has received support from "We Are the Church" in Europe. But which "We" is the church? Corpus Christi? The bishop of Rochester? The national bishops' conference? The pope in council? The pope, the solo royal "we"? It may be that Callan's gestures are genuinely prophetic and will eventually gain standing in the wider church. I certainly look forward to the day when women wear the stole in frill grace and communion. But for the time being one may have to draw a line between convinced parish practice, mere symbol, political theater, and potential travesty. Much as I admire Callan and the community of Corpus Christi, I believe that there has not always been sufficient sensitivity to the ambiguity from sacrament to travesty. It is because of ambiguity that local enthusiasms need to enter the larger dialogue of a universal, historically developed church. The bishop is the designated mediator of that dialogue.

The basic issue in Rochester may well be the authority of local bishops. Bishop Clark, a remarkably warm and pastoral figure, both for his diocese and his priests, has supported Callan for many years while urging him to shape his ministry in ways that would not divorce it from the larger life of the church. There have been communications from Cardinal Ratzinger's office about Corpus Christi, but it seems clear that no directive was issued against Callan. However, the current trend in Rome toward a centralizing judicial orthodoxy tends to undercut local episcopal authority-and creates as backlash the sort of isolating opposition being expressed by some at Corpus Christi. The local bishop may be placed in an impossible middle between an exaggerated papalism and whatever local "prophetism" may arise. Papalists and prophets, being stubbornly certain of the mind of the church, always find it difficult to dialogue and compromise. To be sure, the Roman Catholic idea of church is Roman, but it would be well to emphasize that it is to the bishop of Rome that one grants peculiar authority - and well before Leo I's "ubi Petrus, ibi ecclesia," Ignatius of Antioch proclaimed "ubi episcopus, ibi ecclesia." True in Rochester as in Rome.

Dennis O'Brien, president emeritus of the University of Rochester, is the author of All the Essential Half-Truths about Higher Education (University of Chicago Press).