Calls to action.

Faith That Dares to Speak

Donald Cozzens

Liturgical Press, $19.95, 138 pp.

Common Calling

The Laity and Governance of the Catholic Church

Stephen J. Pope, editor

Georgetown University Press, $26.95, 272 pp.

It happens so frequently that most of those involved in the church no longer find it as discouraging as they should. Recently, in a single week, I attended three meetings--one in a parish, two at the diocesan level--where at least one participant prefaced some remark with: "I can't say this publicly, of course, but ..." (here insert opinions related to, say, the priesthood, liturgical translations, or presidential politics). As in a tightly run corporation, every level in the church hesitates to antagonize the next level up--and, as often happens in such cases, in the process only weakens the organization it is trying to protect.

Given a church structure offering few settings for honest talk, I had high hopes for Donald Cozzens's latest book, Faith That Dares to Speak. Cozzens, a former seminary rector with wide acquaintance among American bishops, has set his own examples of forthright speech with his previous books, most notably Sacred Silence and The Changing Face of the Priesthood. Here, he again paints a distressing picture of a church in denial, a feudal hierarchy where obvious facts and urgent problems remain undiscussed out of loyalty, ambition, or arrogance. Little has changed, Cozzens says, in how the church is governed since the eruption of scandals involving sexual abuse. Despite some bishops' eagerness to classify errors in that area as "history," a fading priesthood, accelerated parish closings, and mounting financial crises are signs of even broader problems.

In the midst of such urgent issues, I was hoping for something more than Cozzens delivers. Faith That Dares adds little to the vivid indictments of church culture he has made in his previous books. In addition, while he wants Catholics to lose their traditional fear of church authorities, a drone of rather mournful victim language occasionally seems to set us up as more oppressed than we actually feel. In just one four-page stretch, he decries the exile, deep pain, grief, anguish, deep grief, grieving, and lament of those who feel unheard or ignored by the church. Many Catholics are more frustrated and offended (or perhaps even bemused) by their leaders than these words might suggest, and are ready to hear, not just that they are called to speak up, but to whom and how they might do that most usefully.

Cozzens clearly did not set out to write a political tract, and he wisely reminds Catholics to shun the unbending "willful" anger that seems to motivate so many of the church's guardians of the status quo. He offers welcome praise for specific people and publications (including Commonweal) that have made effective statements of criticism and suggestion, but the balance between problems and opportunities still seems too tilted toward restating the former. (Do we really need to hear about Galileo again?) Cozzens remains one of the church's admirable voices of sanity and honesty, but if you've read his previous books, especially Sacred Silence, you can confidently pass on this one.

Common Calling is a more engaging and perhaps empowering volume for Catholics looking for insights into their future involvement in the church's life. (Some of its thirteen essays had their origin in Boston College's Church in the Twenty-First Century initiative; its informative Web site is www.bc.edu/church21.) As with most anthologies, the quality is uneven as well as the tone, with (at times too) passionate advocacy mixed with valuable historical and legal background. But the book does provide some outstanding material for parish discussion.

Pheme Perkins's essay on unity and diversity in the early church, and Scott Appleby's concise review of American Catholicism's governance history, are highly readable introductions for those unfamiliar with the subjects. Other essays address more current issues. One particularly practical article by John Beal reviews the code of canon law and its provisions for (and prohibitions of) lay involvement in church affairs. Don't expect to discover any unexpected room for actual decision-making clout. Still it is helpful to know one's facts, and to be reminded again of the rights and privileges every Catholic has by baptism. Also welcome is an essay by Baptist theologian S. Mark Heim, reflecting on the pluses and not insignificant minuses of the radical church decentralization (sometimes tempting to Catholics) at the heart of his own tradition.

What, according to all these thinkers, is to be done? A recurring theme in Common Calling is the need to revive the church's ancient tradition of electing our bishops, a project one suspects isn't near the top of the agenda kept by the current incumbents. As a more immediate model for lay involvement, both Cozzens and Common Calling devote significant space to Boston-based Voice of the Faithful. VOTF has certainly played a valuable role as a watchdog over the bishops' mishandling of the sexual-abuse crisis and its aftermath. Clearly, though, there is a need to focus on other issues too: the lack of disclosure and shabby financial practices of many parishes and dioceses, the need for more and stronger parish councils, the economics of parishes and the criteria for closing them, and the compensation and rights of laypeople working in and running parishes are all issues worth extended study and energy. We may need something like a VOTF for each of them.

In the end, some inevitable realities will probably change the church more than talk or organizations. As priests continue to disappear, your local church will someday soon fall almost entirely under the day-to-day management of laypeople, whether bishops or said laypeople are ready for it or not. Of the two books under review, Common Calling is a good choice for a parish group or pastoral council beginning to wonder how that future will work.

Thomas Baker, a permanent deacon and a frequent Commonweal contributor, is a media consultant.