The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene is
one of the great novels of the 20th century. Set in Mexico in the 1930’s during
a period of revolution, its protagonist is the last Catholic priest in a state
where the Church has been outlawed. But this outlaw priest proves an odd
protagonist. He is a “whiskey priest” who is usually either drunk, hung over,
or yearning for the next drink. He also has sired a daughter in a village in
the mountains. On the run from the police, he first appears in the story about to
catch a river boat to escape to safety in another state. Cowardly, morally
suspect, and self-interested, the Whiskey Priest is hardly exemplary.
And
yet. The priest’s attempts to escape are foiled by his own sense of obligation
to his sacramental ministry. Though often with a sense of regret, or resentment
even, he does hear confession, baptize, and administer Eucharist. While he is
in many ways self-interested, the priest is also self-aware and convinced of
his own failure. And though he is convinced he is a failure, it is clear
throughout the novel that he has indeed ministered to many. In spite of
himself, it seems the Spirit never abandons him. By the end of the story, it is
clear that, while his witness is mixed, the priest has indeed borne witness to
the gospel.
It
is a story of God’s amazing grace as he uses one dissolute priest to
demonstrate his power and glory. It gives hope to all of us who, while perhaps
less obviously dissolute, are nonetheless able to carry on only because we live
under the Mercy. It is one of the handful of books that have truly changed me.
The
protagonist in The Power and the Glory
is also a good metaphor for the Church. We would like to imagine the Church
striding through history like a hero or a saint. But, if we are honest, we must
admit that the Church has ever staggered through history like the Whiskey
Priest – all too often drunk on (worldly) power and sin, cowardly, less than
faithful, self-interested, etc. But, while it has never been more than a
Whiskey Priest, it has, by the grace of God, never been less. In spite of all
its shortcomings, it has borne Word and Sacrament to the world. And it has also
raised up exemplary saints – known and unknown. As with Graham Greene’s priest,
we know that in spite of its shortcomings, the Spirit does not abandon the
Church and God’s power and glory are present in and through it. But only and
always by God’s grace, not its own heroic or saintly purity.
And
there’s the rub. The compulsion and presumption to create a pure Church, whether
that be pure in holiness or pure in teaching or pure in justice – however and
by whomever any of those is defined – is rooted in either pride or impatience
(or both). If we continually expect and demand that the Church stride through
history like a hero-saint we will continually be frustrated by its actual
plodding through history like a Whiskey Priest. But we will also miss the
opportunity to learn what it means to live by God’s power and glory rather than
our own. We will miss the fact of God’s sheer grace. I wonder if the refusal to
accept and love the Church as a corpus
permixtum – a mixed body of sinners and saints – is not rooted in our own
unwillingness to see ourselves as simul
justus et peccator – simultaneously righteous and sinful. We only ever live
under the Mercy.
The
Whiskey Priest has no such illusions about himself. As a result, he ends up
exhibiting those basic gospel virtues, humility and charity – virtues that
continue to be shaped even, and perhaps especially, in a Church that, like the
Whiskey Priest, bears the Good News in spite of its all too evident
imperfections.
I guess in a large sense, my prayer is that God would make Whiskey Priests of all of us. I know I've always related to whiskey priests better than one's I was afraid to talk to because I thought they were too good for me. We all know the feeling of being unworthy, it is much easier to use it as a crutch than as a sword.
ReplyDeleteI appreciate the Bishop's thoughtful reflections on the state of the church. The metaphor of the Whiskey Priest is a wonderful reminder that God works in us despite (and through) our brokenness. That good news is both humbling and encouraging, but does not stop there. Like Jesus' parables, the Whiskey Priest draws us into a story that elicits our response. In other words, if we see the state of the Body of Christ as that of a drunken priest, what are we, His members called to do? First, let's recognize that's not the way things are supposed to be. The church is designed to be God's light in an often dark and unbelieving world. Let's also recognize that this dynamic is not new. From its earliest days, God's truth and the unity of the body have been under attack. We see hints of this in the New Testament epistles. Our great Creed arose from the ashes of the Arian heresy that seriously threatened to divide, if not overrun, the early church. In that era, our church fathers adhered to the faith of the apostles, spoke that truth and preserved the unity of church. To paraphrase the Book of Ester, who knows but that each of us is called to our positions in life for such a time as this? By the same Grace that empowers a Whiskey Priest, may we actively share in His way, truth and life, so that the world may know us by our love of God and one another.
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