ASK FATHER: Is the priesthood dominated by men who are varsity-level players or 3rd and 4th stringers?

From a reader (as Substack under my post about Thomas Reese’s latest stupid thing)…

QUAERITUR:

Is the priesthood dominated by men who would have been varsity-level players in almost any field? Or, because the varsity players left or never entered, are those remaining, in general, on average, under the fat part of the bell curve, third- and fourth-stringers? I am trying to understand where this fellow [Reese] comes from and who he is to write something like this.

Hmmm… nemo est iudex in causa sua!

The priesthood has always included a few varsity players, a great many solid teammates, and some who should never have been admitted to seminary or survived its formation program. The same is true of every profession.

To use another image, among priests we have racehorses, cart horses, and everything in between: pleasant and ornery, handsome but slow, homely but strong. All have their uses in God’s eyes, provided that they strive to do His will. God in his The Church recruits from fallen humanity, not from a celestial stable. Remember, too, that God does not choose men because they are worthy. None is worthy. He chooses those whom it pleases Him to choose, and that choice was made before the creation of the material cosmos.

There is, however, something to your implied suggestion.

For decades, many dioceses and religious communities did a lousy job of identifying, attracting, and retaining strong, virile and faithful men. In fact, many deliberately did the opposite, particularly by admitting men with obvious same-sex attraction and the effeminate. Certain seminaries rewarded compliance and ideological reliability while persecuting intellectual vigor, masculine confidence, and traditional piety. They were trying to undermine the status quo and reshape the Church in their own image. In those days, many good men walked away or were “deselected,” the term they used on me.

Meanwhile, sycophants, sodomites, and simpletons were petted and advanced.

I believe things are better now. Back in the day, however, it was a horror show.

Back to your question.

There are “average” priests who are really good cart horses: hardworking, steady, pleasant, unrattled, and strong. As a pastor, I would rather have a couple of assistants like that than some wannabe Teilhard de Chardin.

The average priest is not a third-string human being, he is a treasure.

That reminds me of something funny and pointed that the late, great Extraordinary Ordinary trotted out around 2015. Bp. Morlino had been a Jesuit before wisely leaving them for diocesan priesthood. He observed that there were three tiers of Jesuits: authors and high-flyers occupying named university chairs, professors of various subjects, and those who peak as high-school psychology teachers. A pointed point indeed.

I digress.

Many priests who lack brilliance are faithful, prayerful, hardworking men who hear confessions, anoint the dying, offer Mass reverently, and hold parishes together with baling wire and supernatural charity.

To use a chess analogy, it is entirely possible to win a hard fought game without making a single “brilliancy” move, “!!” or even a “great” move”!”.

St. Augustine reminds us that a priest’s holy life can itself become an eloquent sermon.  I refer you to Book 4 of De doctrina christiana.  Augustine talks about the fruits of preachers of different levels.  Some wind up being celebrities and others saintly though less flashy.

Frankly, the Church needs saintly priests more urgently than celebrity priests.

Moreover, grace perfects nature; it does not replace it. Intellectual laziness, bad judgment, cowardice, and an inability to communicate should not be baptized as humility.

A man may possess advanced degrees in mathematics or law and remain a theological lightweight.

Therefore, when asking “where this guy comes from,” examine the formation system that produced and rewarded him. Who taught him? Who promoted him? What questions was he never forced to answer?

Personnel is policy, and formation eventually reveals itself.

To conclude, a varsity player can foul out spectacularly, while a third-string substitute can sink the three-pointer that wins the game. Results count. For the most part, since God assembled the team in the first place, He did so for reasons we shall not understand fully until the General Judgment.

Nemo est iudex in causa sua!