We’ve come to canonise uncertainty and to be suspicious of certainty, says Fr Chris Hayden
“We take every thought captive, and bring it to obedience to Christ.” So writes St Paul in his Second Letter to the Corinthians (10:5). What we think, the set of ideas we hold, is not a matter of indifference. Thoughts and ideas matter; they matter very much indeed.
If there is a diametrical opposite to St Paul’s captive-taking approach, it is the taking of refuge in clichés – a cliché being nothing other than an unexamined, over-used idea. Clichés aren’t spectacular or outstanding, and they tend to convey a grain of truth. This is why they can slip unnoticed into our minds, and subtly influence our thinking and our outlook. I’ve occasionally found it useful to take aim at some trusty – but untrustworthy – clichés, to pick them apart and see just what it is they communicate. This, I like to think, is a matter of ‘taking clichés captive’ – a specific aspect of St Paul’s broader project.
Clichés
Some clichés would, if I were still blessed with a head of hair, leave me wanting to tear it out! One such culprit is the desperately jaded notion – occasionally heard on clerical lips – that people “don’t look to us for answers.”
The grain of truth here is that adults cannot, and should not try to, outsource their conscience or their moral responsibility. But to conclude from this that people of faith should not readily turn to their clergy for guidance would be a huge and unwarranted leap. And whenever we approach someone for guidance, isn’t the seeking of answers part of the deal? This does not mean abdicating personal responsibility; the thoughtful pursuit of answers is, rather, an exercise of moral responsibility.
“People don’t look for us for answers.” If we priests were to buy into that cliché, might we not be letting ourselves off the hook? Might we not be sparing ourselves work, study, reflection, and indeed the prayer that leaves us equipped to walk with our people in their pursuit of wisdom for their lives?
Answers
In point of fact, people do look to us for answers. Not everyone, of course, but enough people do so for us to take our responsibilities seriously. And when people ‘look to us,’ they do so not because we are smart, but because we are perceived to be – and we are supposed to be – teachers of the truth. Again, this does not mean that people are outsourcing their consciences or their intelligence; choosing to approach one’s priest is an exercise of conscience and intelligence.
A slight qualification is in order here. It’s only sensible to note that not all clergy are blessed with an equal measure of the gifts of counsel, discretion and discernment, and to state that people look to us for answers is not to imply this. But in general, people expect their priests to have a certain faith-based, Gospel-based wisdom, which they are ready and willing to share. A further qualification is that this doesn’t mean that ordination automatically conveys the necessary gifts for counsel and guidance. There are many lay people who, by training and by natural giftedness, are better able to offer counsel and guidance than many clergy. That said, however, it is reasonable to expect that priests will have something to offer to those who are confronted with significant moral choices, and who are trying to discern their way through life in the light of their faith.
A variant on the above cliché states: “People don’t expect us to have magic answers.” This one can be kicked out the field without too much trouble. How do we come to conflate answers with magic? Or certainty with childishness? Or an appeal to doctrine with being doctrinaire? Or preaching with scolding condescension? Or uncertainty with critical intelligence? Or clarity with simple-mindedness?
As for any concerns about ‘dispensing pre-packaged truths,’ isn’t there something terribly ‘prepackaged’ about the notion of ‘prepackaged truths’? To say nothing of the preconceived notion of ‘preconceived notions’!
Uncertainty
To the extent that, aided and abetted by clichés, we’ve come to canonise uncertainty and to be suspicious of certainty, we owe more to contemporary postmodern philosophy than to the Gospel. But we are called to sit at the feet of Jesus, who tells us that He is the way, the truth and the life; not at the feet of philosophers who insist that faith is credulity and maturity is incredulity towards anything that might look like a clear – or, heaven forbid, definitive – answer.
And if some of the faithful choose, as an expression of mature discipleship, to approach their clergy for guidance, then it behoves us clergy to make sure we’ve ditched any clichés that might make this look like anything less than an expression of faith and maturity, or that might lead us to shirk any aspect of our pastoral responsibility.
