A: This is certainly an excellent question, because it is true that the Church teaches that “you are a priest forever” (Ps. 110.4). The fact that one nevertheless occasionally encounters an “ex-priest” would therefore appear to be a contradiction.

There is a delicate distinction that must be made between the metaphysical fact that a man is always a priest once he has been ordained, and the canonical status of a laicized priest. And as we have seen so many times before, canon law is in complete accord with theology on this subject. Let’s take a look at what both of them have to say.

The Catechism states that the sacrament of Holy Orders confers an “indelible spiritual character” on the man who receives it (CCC 1582). Like the sacrament of Baptism, it can never be erased—a baptized Christian can cease to practice his faith, and even publicly deny Christ, but he can never undo his baptism. Priestly ordination works in exactly the same way.

Similarly, canon 290 of the Code of Canon Law states bluntly that once a man validly receives sacred ordination, the sacrament never becomes invalid. As David says in his question, once a priest, always a priest. A cleric can never become a layman again.

At the same time, however, it is possible for a priest to be released from the duties and responsibilities that are connected to the clerical state (CCC 1583). Practically speaking, this would mean that a priest no longer functioned outwardly as a priest. He would no longer engage in ministry within his diocese or religious institute; no longer celebrate Mass or confer the sacraments; no longer be called “Father” or wear clerical clothing; and no longer be supported financially by the Church. To the world he would appear to be a layman, working at an ordinary job and living the normal life of the laity. Canon law refers to this change as the “loss of the clerical state” (cf. cc. 290-293). Common parlance calls it laicization.

Why would a priest lose the clerical state? It can be imposed upon him, as the most serious penalty for a priest who has committed an ecclesiastical crime, but that does not take place very often—nor should it. Ordinarily, it happens because a priest voluntarily requests it. For any number of reasons, he may conclude that he cannot continue living the life of a priest. Ideally, of course, the realization that it will be impossible to live and work as a priest for the rest of one’s life should be reached when a man is still a seminarian, during the years of theological study and spiritual formation leading up to his ordination. But sometimes life simply doesn’t work that way. Various combinations of emotional and health issues, deaths and other events within the priest’s family, and of course the immense stress of being constantly overworked while feeling unappreciated may lead a priest to reach this decision after he is already ordained and engaged in priestly ministry.

When this occurs, and a priest is released from the clerical state, he is still technically a priest, but as canon 292 notes, he may no longer exercise the power of orders. Since this is what the priest is requesting anyway, there is usually little fear that he will violate this restriction. But in theory, if a laicized priest were to say Mass, it would be a valid Mass, since he never loses the ability to celebrate the Eucharist. It would, however, be illicit. (The difference between an invalid act, and an act that is valid but illicit, was discussed in greater detail back in the October 18, 2007 column.)

Theoretically, if at some point in the future the laicized priest changed his mind, and wanted to live as a priest again, this would be canonically possible—but he would have to receive permission to be once more “re-instated” directly from Rome (c. 293). For obvious reasons, the Church does not want undecided men easily moving back and forth, in and out of the priestly state! But in any case, a previously-laicized priest returning to ministry would not be ordained again, as he would still be an ordained priest already.

The fact that it is impossible to “un-ordain” a priest explains the otherwise curious wording of canon 976. This canon states that any priest, even one who lacks the faculty to hear confessions, can validly and licitly hear the confession of anyone who is in danger of death. Thus even a laicized priest, who certainly has lost his confessional faculties, can hear the confession of someone who is dying. In fact, canon 986.2 goes even farther: in an urgent situation, every priest is obliged to hear the confession of a Catholic in danger of death. If, for example, a priest who had lost the clerical state were driving home and encountered a car accident, and found there a Catholic victim who at least appeared to be near death, that laicized priest would actually be required under canon law to hear his confession and grant him absolution. This is, of course, totally in keeping with the theological concept that an ordained priest always remains a priest.

To return to the particulars of David’s question, can a laicized priest get married? We all know that as a rule, Catholic clergy are required to be celibate (c. 277.1). (An exception would be found in some countries among the clergy of many of the Catholic Churches that are not of the Latin rite, such as were discussed in the September 20, 2007 column.) One might presume that once a priest has been reduced to the lay state, his obligation to remain celibate ceases.

But not so fast. Canon 291 addresses this issue specifically, and notes that the loss of the clerical state does not carry with it an automatic dispensation from the requirement to stay celibate. In fact, such a dispensation would have to be requested separately, and can only be granted by the Pope himself.

While the law clearly does provide for this possibility, it is well known in canonical circles that Pope John Paul II, who promulgated the current code that includes this canon, for many years routinely denied all requests for this dispensation. While Benedict XVI has only been Pope for a comparatively short time, it is difficult to imagine that he will in the future take a radically different stance on this issue. This means that practically speaking, while a priest can receive permission to leave the active priesthood, he ordinarily will not receive permission to marry.

So if David has in fact met one or more married men who have said that they were former priests, what conclusions can be drawn from this? It is entirely possible that such a laicized priest received permission to marry before John Paul II had established his practice of refusing such requests; or perhaps the priest constituted an extremely rare exception to this unofficial rule.

But unfortunately there is another possibility. Some priests have simply walked away from the Catholic Church entirely, and have married outside the Church without obtaining (or often without even seeking) permission from their superiors. While individual circumstances can vary, their status is often akin to that of a soldier who has “gone AWOL.” These priests fall under the provisions of canon 1394.1, which notes that a cleric who attempts marriage incurs suspension; and canon 194.1 n. 3, which states that a cleric who attempts marriage ipso facto loses any ecclesiastical office he may have.

Note that both of these canons speak of “attempting marriage.” There are two reasons for this phraseology. Firstly, canon 1087 asserts unequivocally that a man who has been ordained cannot validly marry in the Church—any such marriage will automatically be invalid. Secondly, if a priest (or any other Catholic, for that matter!) marries in a non-Catholic ceremony without receiving any permission from proper church authorities, the marriage will not be recognized by the Catholic Church as a valid marriage anyway (see the August 23, 2007 column for further discussion about the canonical form of marriage).Thus this terminology is very exact.

To sum up, we can see that both Catholic theology and canon law acknowledge that sacred ordination is forever, but there are real-life situations where it is possible for an ordained priest to live as a layman and still be a Catholic in good standing. There are nevertheless some other priests who have turned their backs entirely on the Church, and while they too remain Catholic priests in actual fact, their status within the Church has yet to be straightened out. In this the Year of the Priest, let’s pray for these priests to return and take steps to regularize their canonical situation. And let’s also pray that all Catholic priests be given the graces and strength they need to persevere in their often difficult ministry, which is so critical to the continued life of the Church.

Q2: Does canon law say anything about face-to-face confessionals? Our new pastor had the grills inside the confessionals removed, because he says he doesn’t like “anonymity” and thinks people should be adult enough to confess face-to-face. But now lots of people, including me, don’t want to go to confession! Is there something wrong with us not wanting to be seen in there? –Neal

It is particularly apt to discuss the sacrament of penance in this the Year of the Priest, for Pope Benedict XVI placed this year under the patronage of Saint John Vianney, the great saint of the confessional and the patron of all priests.  It would be difficult to exaggerate the importance of this sacrament, which the Catechism rightly describes as reconciling a sinner with both God Himself and His Church (CCC 1462). A repentant Catholic, who wishes to confess his sins and be restored to life in Christ, cannot do this without a priest; the code states what most Catholics already know, that only a priest is the minister of the sacrament of penance (c. 965).

One needn’t have an advanced degree in pastoral ministry to know that a person who realizes he has committed some grave sin generally feels ashamed of his action(s). While he may very well want to unburden his conscience and be reconciled with God, this does not necessarily imply that he is willing to advertise that fact to the general public. God, Who created our human nature, knows this perfectly well, and consequently guided the Church which He founded in the establishment of private, individual confession. Even if we have sinned in public, God is willing to forgive us in the privacy of a one-on-one encounter with a priest. And as we saw in the December 4, 2008 column, no matter how heinous his sins may be, a penitent should always be 100% certain that the priest hearing his confession will never, ever repeat it to anyone else.

Yet even under such generous conditions, the Church knows that many Catholics who have sinned may still be hesitant to approach the confessional. Thus it has always been the Church’s goal, for pastoral reasons, that receiving the sacrament of penance be as painless as possible. Anything that might discourage a sincere penitent from confessing his sins would be contrary to the nature of this sacrament.

Thus canon law is simply articulating sound pastoral ministry when it dictates the physical requirements of a confessional box or room. For starters, canon 964.3 states that confessions are not to be heard elsewhere than in a confessional, except for a just reason. If a bed-ridden hospital patient, or an elderly, home-bound parishioner wishes to go to confession, such circumstances would of course constitute the “just reason” envisioned by the code as an exception.

Canon 964.2 is even more specific: confessionals are to be fitted with a fixed screen between the penitent and the confessor, and be available in an open place so that the faithful can freely use them. Clearly this canon goes to the heart of Neal’s question. Regardless of his pastor’s personal preferences, removing the grills from the church’s confessionals is a direct violation of the law—and when we consider the natural reaction of Neal and others in his parish to their removal, we can see why the canon exists in the first place! While confessionals may be designed so that a penitent has a choice of confessing face-to-face or through a screen, and many people undoubtedly prefer to confess face-to-face, the fact remains that the confessor has no authority to decide that a penitent may not confess his sins from behind a confessional screen if that is what the penitent wishes.

Ironically, the reverse scenario has officially been determined to be correct. In 1998, 15 years after the promulgation of the current Code of Canon Law, a different sort of question arose about confessionals and personal preference. It was submitted to the Pontifical Council for the Interpretation of Legal Texts, which, as we’ve seen before in the October 5, 2007 column and many others, is the sole Vatican body to which the Pope has given power to determine the official way the code is to be interpreted.

The question submitted was this: If a confessor wishes to hear a penitent’s confession from behind the confessional grill, can he insist on this means, even if a penitent prefers to confess face-to-face? The Council replied (In a statement that has been published only in Latin) in the affirmative. Thus, once might say that the desire of either party to celebrate the sacrament of penance through a confessional screen trumps the wishes of the other. A priest may, if he prefers, insist that everyone confesses his sins through a confessional grill; a penitent may likewise insist that he receive the sacrament in this way. Thus the law illustrates that, far from there being “something wrong” with Neal and his fellow parishioners who wish to confess in this way, it is an entirely normal preference on both sides, and one which the Church takes very seriously indeed!

So what does the code say with regard to Chuck’s question, about whether confession-by-appointment is a sufficient means for a parish to enable its parishioners to receive the sacrament? Chuck and his wife are correct in regarding this issue as a question of whether or not the faithful are being denied the right to go to confession. As we saw in the May 24, 2007 column, the Catholic faithful have the right to receive the sacraments when they ask for them at an opportune time, are properly disposed, and are not prohibited by law from receiving them (c. 843.1). The question is, should the faithful have to phone and make an appointment in order to receive the sacrament of penance?

A direct, clear-cut answer is not found in the code, presumably because the issue had not arisen in any significant, public way prior to its promulgation in 1983. But one can easily argue that, while the code may not provide sufficient specifics, sacramental theology does. Since private confession constitutes the sole means, under normal circumstances, by which a Catholic who has committed grave sin can be reconciled with God and the Church (c. 960), it’s only logical that the Church should make this sacrament as readily available as humanly possible. And when you couple that with the shame and fear which (as discussed above) naturally fills a penitent who realizes and regrets his sins, the need to make the sacrament easy to obtain is even more obvious.

But since some clerics entrusted with the welfare of souls might not share this view, Pope John Paul II weighed in on this point himself. In 2002 he issued the Apostolic Letter Misericordia Dei, On Certain Aspects of the Celebration of Penance, to clarify a number of popular misconceptions regarding this sacrament. While this Apostolic Letter is not technically law, it does provide an authoritative interpretation of this pastoral issue from the Vicar of Christ himself. Among other things he noted,

“Local Ordinaries, and parish priests and rectors of churches and shrines, should periodically verify that the greatest possible provision is in fact being made for the faithful to confess their sins. It is particularly recommended that in places of worship confessors be visibly present at the advertized times, that these times be adapted to the real circumstances of penitents, and that confessions be especially available before Masses, and even during Mass if there are other priests available, in order to meet the needs of the faithful” (MD 2).

What the Pope describes here is a situation in which the sacrament of penance is available at one’s parish on multiple occasions, when it is normally convenient for parishioners to come to church to receive it. It does not exclude the possibility of a parishioner also making an appointment to go to confession at yet another time; but it is nevertheless a far cry from the “appointment-only” scenario which Chuck describes!

For the record, in rural areas where a single pastor may be assigned to multiple parishes, or where there is otherwise a dire shortage of clergy, making confession available at so many different times during the average week may be physically impossible for one tremendously overworked priest. Nevertheless, the point is that the sacrament of penance should be as readily accessible as possible, so that a guilt-ridden, repentant Catholic need not be required to call particular attention to himself by phoning a rectory in order to get it! Anyone who has ever had to unburden himself of some hefty sins in the confessional could tell us that doing so can be difficult enough as it is, without adding appointment-making to the agenda.  And as we’ve just seen, this is not merely Chuck’s personal opinion, for the same was essentially affirmed by the Pope himself.

By now it should be clear that both the parishes described by our questioners fall short in the matter of hearing confessions. If respectfully pointing this out to the pastor is unsuccessful, they might wish to find a parish where they can receive the sacrament of penance without hindrance. A respectful, constructive notification of the bishop might perhaps be in order as well, as he may very well be entirely unaware of the situation. And where ensuring that wandering sheep may be enabled to return to the fold of the Church is concerned, we Catholics ought all to be in fundamental agreement.

At the same time, however, the difficulties described in these two questions should not be considered “legitimate” excuses to avoid going to confession. Although the circumstances described are less than ideal, they certainly do not justify failing to receive the sacrament altogether. It may not be pleasant to have to phone the parish to make an appointment, or speak to the priest face-to-face in the confessional.  But surely the graces we receive through this sacrament are worth any amount of emotional discomfort.

A: The former wife of Joseph Kennedy III did indeed write a book castigating the Catholic Church in general, and the marriage tribunal of the Archdiocese of Boston in particular, after her ex-husband sought an annulment of their marriage. Calling the entire annulment process a “sham,” she has subsequently sought to pressure the Catholic Church to accept divorce and remarriage, and asserts that the Church could, if it wished, permit second marriages that are non-sacramental. It is amazing to find that this book is sold by many Catholic bookstores which otherwise carry material that is solidly orthodox, because it is essentially nothing more than a direct assault on both the Church’s teaching on marriage, and the authority of the Church’s hierarchy to determine sacramental invalidity. As such it is hardly recommended Catholic reading material!

The issue of marriage nullity has been addressed numerous times before in this space, but it is worthwhile to examine some additional aspects of both the Church’s teaching on marriage and the annulment process. Then we should be better able to understand the few known facts of the Kennedy marriage and annulment proceedings—which, incidentally, are apparently still ongoing.

As has been said before in this space, there is no question that the Church’s law concerning marriage and annulment is the most widely misunderstood concept in the entire Code of Canon Law. We discussed in more detail in the July 26, 2007 column the fact that a marriage annulment is utterly unlike a civil divorce—for an annulment is a statement that the sacrament of marriage was actually invalid at the moment that the spouses exchanged their consent. Some of the many reasons why a marriage may be found null have been addressed here in the past (see the August 9, 2007 and October 5, 2007 columns for examples), and some of the basic elements of the annulment process were discussed in the February 6, 2009 column. Hopefully regular readers can by now appreciate the complexity of Catholic theology and canon law on this subject.

As we’ve discussed before, one rarely hears of anyone challenging the validity of a priest’s ordination, or of a teenager’s confirmation. Yet marriages are celebrated and later found to be invalid with astonishing frequency! Why does it seem that of all the seven sacraments, marriage is the one that is most problematic?

There are two main reasons: firstly, the minister of the sacrament of marriage is not the priest who officiates at the wedding. The sacrament is actually administered by the spouses themselves, who must give their consent. (See the August 9, 2007 column mentioned above for a more in-depth discussion of this.)

Secondly, marriage is the only sacrament which by its very nature involves two ministers of the sacrament. At the wedding, both bride and groom must give their full consent as the Church understands it. It is possible that one spouse may do this flawlessly; but if the other does not, the marriage is null. Each is, therefore, utterly dependent on the other for the marriage to be celebrated validly. To a believing Catholic, there should be nothing surprising or objectionable about this. After all, mutual cooperation is a pretty basic component of Christian matrimony! But it means that mathematically, the odds that the sacrament of matrimony is administered invalidly are instantly doubled.

It also means, sadly, that a person who entered a marriage in total sincerity and gave his complete consent, fully intending to spend the rest of his life in union with the other spouse, can feel bitterly betrayed if that other spouse subsequently seeks an annulment of their marriage—and gets it. The undeniable fact is that it takes both spouses for a marriage to be valid; but it only takes one for it to be null. However painful this may be, it is crucial to remember that this unhappy situation is not the “fault” of the Catholic Church or its teaching on marriage. Still less are the staff of a diocesan marriage tribunal to blame. Bear in mind that a marriage tribunal does not make a marriage invalid; rather, it issues an official acknowledgement that a marriage which was celebrated invalidly is in fact null. A tribunal recognizes pre-existing nullity; it does not cause it.

This is a hard but critical fact to bear in mind when looking at the arguments of Sheila Rauch Kennedy. The former Mrs. Kennedy is not, and has never been, a Catholic, and thus may be excused for her failure to understand Catholic church teaching. What is harder to understand is her apparent refusal even to try to learn it. While we may all sympathize with her bitter sense that her former husband’s petition for an annulment was an act of treachery in which the Church acquiesced, we should at the same time pay close attention to her logic when she casts blame on the marriage tribunal of the Archdiocese of Boston (which handled her husband’s petition) and on the Catholic Church as a whole.

Sheila Kennedy, who divorced her husband civilly in 1991, objected when her ex-husband sought an annulment two years later, in order to remarry in the Church. Evidently his petition was based on canon 1095 n. 2, which states that those who suffer from a grave lack of discretion of judgment concerning the essential matrimonial rights and obligations, are incapable of giving their consent at the time of the marriage.

I say “evidently,” because any information from the documents and any other evidence contained in the records of the Kennedys’ annulment proceedings is not public knowledge. In her book, the former Mrs. Kennedy repeatedly expresses her frustration and outrage that the Boston marriage tribunal officials would not give her copies of the proceedings or even permit her to cite them. While she and her advocate were allowed to come to the tribunal and read the documents themselves, they were forbidden to use the information they contain outside the court. The implicit suggestion here is that the tribunal was engaged in a cover-up, trying to conceal the arbitrariness of its decision, and gagging a woman who was vainly trying to reveal the truth for all the world to see.

In fact, far from constituting an arbitrary and cruel violation of justice, it appears that with this prohibition, the tribunal was doing exactly what it is required by law to do. Canon 1475.2 notes that without an order from the judge, copies of the judicial acts and other documents are not to be given to anyone. Does this mean that Sheila Kennedy was kept in the dark throughout, while the validity of her marriage was being adjudicated? Not at all. Canon 1598.1 states that the judge in a marriage case must make all the acts of the case accessible to both spouses and their advocates for their inspection, and at their request, copies of the acts should be given to them. In fact, a failure to do this would actually invalidate the tribunal’s subsequent decision, because it would be denying both parties the ability to respond.

There are important pastoral, as well as legal, reasons for maintaining the confidentiality of a marriage tribunal’s proceedings. The records gathered during the annulment process generally include information that is highly personal, involving as it does the intimate relations of the spouses. After all, a marriage tribunal is not asked to adjudge a marriage that is healthy and happy; the whole point is that there is an allegation of a problem on one or both sides serious enough to invalidate a marriage from the beginning. Consequently, the record of a marriage case often includes documentation such as accounts of emotional or mental instability and psychiatric intervention, detailed discussions of marital infidelity, premarital and unnatural sexual acts, and sometimes descriptions of childhood sexual or physical abuse. In short, it frequently makes extremely unpleasant reading that is hardly suitable for public consumption!

All of which is not to suggest that the proceedings of the Kennedy case necessarily include any such information. The point here is that there is good reason why tribunal records in general are not available to the public. And since Sheila Kennedy clearly intended to use the documentation from her case in a public attack on her ex-husband and/or the Church, in denying her request the tribunal could not have acted otherwise. She always had the right to view the evidence in her case; she did not have the right to use that evidence in a book or television interview.

Throughout these writings and interviews, therefore, she makes references to various aspects of her experience during the process, and asserts the absurdity of the Church’s laws on the sacramental validity of a marriage, but she can never provide hard, factual evidence to support them. At the same time and for exactly the same reason, neither her husband nor the Boston Archdiocese can publicly provide evidence to refute her allegations. The facts of their marriage case, and all the evidence submitted, remain confidential.

Equally confidential are the details of the proceedings of the appellate court. As we saw in the February 6, 2009 column, whenever a marriage is declared to be null by a tribunal, the case is automatically appealed (c. 1682.1). Only when a marriage case has received two conforming sentences from two courts, both finding that the marriage is in fact null, can the case be considered finished. The Kennedy case was no different in this regard. However, it appears that Sheila Kennedy requested that the appeal be handled, not by the ordinary court of second instance for the Archdiocese of Boston, but by the Roman Rota. As we saw in the same February 6 column, the Rota is one of the Vatican’s courts, and can be compared (in a very imperfect way) to our US Supreme Court. As with any respondent in a marriage case, Sheila Kennedy had every legal right to do this (c. 1444.1 n.1). However, since any case sent to the Rota takes years to adjudicate, this indirectly dragged out the proceedings even longer.

In 2007, the Roman Rota decided that it did not agree with the decision issued by the Boston tribunal. Suggestions were immediately made in the US press that the Archdiocese of Boston had ruled the marriage invalid solely for political reasons, and that the Kennedys were validly married after all.

While this is possible, there is no evidence that this is indeed what happened. Once again, the proceedings and the judgment of the Roman Rota are confidential. We simply know that the Rota’s finding was not in accord with the original decision. There are any number of conceivable reasons for this. While Sheila Kennedy stated publicly that “Rome agreed with me,” this is not necessarily the case at all. It could be that the Roman Rota found that some of the wording of the original decision was theologically imprecise, or that it may have been better to find the marriage invalid on some other grounds. Once again, our February 6 column addressed the fact that when an appellate court reverses a declaration of nullity, this should not automatically be viewed as a sort of “slap” against the lower court (although it may be).

So what happened to the Kennedy case? Again, we who are not immediately involved have no way of knowing, as the case is confidential. Because the two tribunal decisions do not agree, the case must be heard yet again by a third tribunal. Since the case is already at the Roman Rota, this means that it must be re-heard by a different group of judges there (c. 1444.1. n. 2), which once again will take years to complete. It is known that in the meantime, Joseph Kennedy has already married another woman, outside the Catholic Church. The Church, of course, can never recognize any second marriage unless and until an annulment of the first marriage is obtained. Unless and until the Rota issues a second decision in conformity with the previous one, the Catholic Church holds that Joseph and Sheila Kennedy are married.

Paradoxically, this not what Sheila Kennedy apparently wants. On many occasions she has publicly stated that she wants the Catholic Church to accept that she and her former husband really were married validly but later divorced, and that her ex-husband should be permitted by the Church to remarry, in a “non-sacramental marriage,” without a finding that his first marriage to her was null.

Her repeated assertions that the Catholic Church can do this if it so chooses are erroneous. Overlooked in this argument is the fact that marriage was raised to the dignity of a sacrament by Christ Himself (c. 1055.1). The notion that somehow the Church can suddenly assert that it is possible for Catholics to marry validly, but non-sacramentally, is theologically impossible. As we saw in the February 19, 2009 column, the Church’s teaches that a marriage involving two baptized persons is by definition a sacramental marriage, regardless of whether both spouses realize this or not. If Sheila Kennedy truly understood Catholic teaching about marriage, she would be able to see the absurdity of her proposal. Without presuming to speak for the Church’s hierarchy, it is safe to say that it will never been embraced by the Catholic Church.

Without a doubt, there are many people who feel wounded by the Church’s annulment of their marriages, which they honestly believed to be valid. But denying fundamental Catholic teaching about the sacramentality of Christian marriage is not the answer. While we may respect Sheila Kennedy’s anguish about the annulment process, the Catholic Church cannot embrace her proposal and change its definition of marriage. For we believe that marriage has been established and defined by God Himself.

A: The Church’s teaching on the necessity of baptism for salvation has not changed. Christ Himself, after His Resurrection, couldn’t have spoken more clearly about the need for baptism, when He commanded the Apostles to go forth and baptize all nations (Matt. 28: 19-20). As the Catechism teaches, “through baptism we are freed from sin and reborn as sons of God” (CCC 1213 ). It is only logical that Catholic parents should want to have their newborn children baptized as soon as possible, to free them from original sin and make them members of the Church.

As we have seen in this space so many times before, canon law follows theology. So it isn’t at all surprising to find that canon 867.1 states that parents are obliged to see that their infants are baptized within the first few weeks after birth. And the very next paragraph, canon 867.2 , adds that if the child is in danger of death, he is to be baptized immediately.

Thus it should be clear that waiting for months, or even years, to have one’s child baptized is not only not in keeping with the Church’s theological teaching, it is also contrary to canon law. It is difficult to imagine a legitimate reason why Catholic parents, who truly believe in basic tenets of our faith like original sin and God’s grace, would fail to arrange for their children to be baptized as soon as possible.

Ironically, it may be that the wonderful medical advances of the last several decades have inadvertently led many Catholic parents to lose the traditional sense of urgency about having their newborn children baptized. For centuries, the Church’s teaching about the importance of baptism for salvation dovetailed neatly with the fear of many parents that their newborn might not live very long, and so both supernatural and natural reasons tended to push parents to have their children baptized as quickly as they could. If you have ever read the biography of a medieval saint, or if done genealogical research on your own family members in centuries past, you might very well have come across an instance where someone was baptized the day after his birth, or even sooner. In fact, it isn’t necessary to dig so far back in the historical past to find examples of this: in 1927, Pope Benedict XVI himself was baptized the same day that he was born.

This practice was, of course, logically consistent with Catholic doctrine. Given the extraordinarily high rates of infant mortality in generations past, and the fear that an infant might die before original sin had been wiped from his soul, what Catholic parent wouldn’t rush a newborn child to the parish church for baptism as soon as possible?

While there still is always some risk that a child may not survive, nowadays the fear that a newborn infant might not make it is hardly so great as before, especially here in the US. At the same time, baptisms have become big family/social events, when relatives fly into town and there is often a big family get-together after the ceremony. Of course there is nothing intrinsically wrong with this; in fact, we do well to maintain our awareness of the importance of such an event by celebrating the occasion. But unfortunately, the desire to have all the family present at a child’s baptism can naturally lead to postponing the sacrament until everyone is able to make it. While parents are waiting for this or that relative to have a free weekend to travel, their new baby remains in original sin.

There are other factors which now sometimes lead parents to put off having their new child baptized. As we saw back in the June 21, 2007 column , it is standard practice these days in the US for parishes to require parents to attend an evening class (or series of classes) before their child is baptized. This is designed to ensure that the parents truly intend to raise their child in the Catholic faith—an intention that must be present if the priest is to agree to perform the baptism (c. 868.1 n. 2 ). Occasionally I have heard parents complain that they can’t have their new baby baptized until they attend this class, and that in their parish, the class is held only once a month. But in every single case, I have found that these complaining parents had made no effort whatsoever to inquire about the requirements for their infant’s baptism ahead of time. Since parents obviously are aware for months in advance that they will be having a baby, it is difficult to understand their failure to do this. Why not arrange to attend the class a month or two before the child’s expected birth-date, so that it will be possible to have the baptism soon afterwards?

Many parishes do an excellent job of publicizing the need for all parents to attend the baptism class, and class dates are announced well in advance. Others could probably do a better job of instructing their parishioners about the obligation of all parents to have their children baptized soon after birth. I have personally seen a disturbing pattern in many Catholic Hispanic communities, where children are routinely baptized when they are apparently two or three years old, if not older! If their parents had fallen away from the faith, and just recently returned to the Church, this of course would be an entirely understandable explanation for the delay. But if these families are regularly practicing Catholics, it appears that the pastor and parish catechists would do well to remind parents more forcefully and more often that by delaying their child’s baptism, they are leaving that child in original sin. If, God forbid, tragedy strikes and such a child suddenly dies, he leaves this world without the sacramental graces gained from baptism—and by his parents’ choice.

Another, more abstract factor that may cause some new parents to wrongly conclude that there is no need to rush to baptize their child, is the fallout from the fairly recent theological statement from the Vatican concerning Limbo . In 2007, many media outlets wrongly declared that Pope Benedict XVI had “done away with Limbo.” Even the most sincere journalist could perhaps be forgiven for being confused about what the statement actually meant! In its 2000-year existence, the Catholic Church has never made a definitive, authoritative statement explaining exactly what happens to infants who died before being baptized. Since they themselves are completely innocent, it seems absurd to conclude that God damns them to hell; although no less a theologian than St. Augustine really did reach this conclusion 1600 years ago, it was, understandably, not a position subsequently embraced officially by the entire Church. At the same time, the Church teaches that baptism is necessary to enter Heaven, since we must first be wiped clean of original sin and made children of God before we can be with Him there. It is thus a quandary with which theologians long have had to grapple, and the conclusion that there must be some third place (dubbed “Limbo”) was reached as a result. In Limbo, they said, the souls of unbaptized children enjoy some degree of happiness, but they are deprived of the Beatific Vision of God because they are still in original sin. This is not a teaching that can be found anywhere in revelation; rather, it is a logical conclusion of the Church’s teaching on baptism.

In the mid-2000’s, the International Theological Commission (ITC)—a team of theologians chosen from all over the world by the Pope to serve together as a joint committee of experts—was tasked with studying the issue of what happens to infants who die without the grace of baptism. The issue was not merely a theoretical, academic one: questions have been raised repeatedly about the fate of those millions upon millions of children who are killed by abortion. And what about those embryos which are created through in-vitro fertilization, and later discarded in the lab as superfluous? The Church needed to examine the issue more closely.

In their report—which was approved by the Pope—the ITC provided no magic answer to this difficult theological question. It reiterated traditional Catholic teaching when it asserted that “the necessity of the sacrament of Baptism is proclaimed and professed as integral to the Christian faith understanding” (66 ), and it did a beautiful job of tracing the historical development of the belief in Limbo, the existence of which “is not a dogmatic definition” (38 ). The ITC emphasized that there is no need for such a place necessarily to exist at all, since “God can therefore give the grace of Baptism without the sacrament being conferred” (82 ) if He so wishes. In other words, God is not bound by the sacraments; He can, if He so wishes, freely allow the soul of an unbaptized infant into His presence in Heaven. Thus the ITC stressed the need for hope and trust in the mercy of God, since “the point of departure for considering the destiny of these children should be the salvific will of God” (41 ).

This report could too easily be misinterpreted as saying that there is no need to baptize our children, since God will allow them into Heaven anyway. But the report definitely does not exonerate parents whose children die without baptism, when the parents have not made an effort to have the baby baptized promptly. Thus it cannot be used as an excuse for failing to have a newborn infant baptized as quickly as the parents reasonably can.

True, there are tragic situations where a newborn dies unexpectedly in the first few hours or days of his birth; if the parents had been planning to have him baptized soon, it is certainly difficult to fault them for not being fast enough! But it is a very different matter when a child of several months, or even years, dies without having been baptized, solely through the negligence of his parents. New parents need to keep in mind—and to be reminded—of the incredible spiritual responsibility they bear toward their newborn children, who must depend on their parents to ensure that they are relieved of the burden of original sin so that they may someday see God face to face.

A: No.

For starters, the Code of Canon Law makes a sharp distinction between a cleric’s spiritual retreat, and his vacation. Clergy are obliged to go on retreat on a regular basis, as determined by their diocesan bishop (c. 276.2 n. 4). As we saw in the June 26, 2008 column dealing with preaching, the term “cleric” pertains not only to priests, but to deacons as well—so this requirement ordinarily binds them too. This requirement is located within the larger context of canon 276, which addresses the general need of the clergy to seek holiness in their lives. It flies in the face of common sense for a priest to work so hard at his parish duties that he has no time to pray or pursue other means of spiritual development for himself!

Thus it is not uncommon for a diocese to have a policy requiring all its clergy — or at the very least, all its parish priests — to make an annual spiritual retreat. Barring genuine problems like grave illness, these retreats are normally not optional.

There is also a canon directly addressing a pastor’s vacation, which is in a totally different section of the code pertaining to a pastor’s rights and obligations. Canon 533.2 couldn’t be clearer: it states that a pastor may be absent from his parish on vacation for up to one full month in total per year. He may take that month off all at once, or use his vacation days incrementally. The canon adds that the days spent on spiritual retreat are not to be calculated as part of this one-month total. If a pastor leaves his parish for more than one full week, he is obliged to let the bishop (or other chancery official) know that he will be away — the implication being that for shorter periods, he need not even do that much.

As for finding a substitute to cover for the pastor during his absence, canon 533.3 states that the bishop is to establish norms for providing for pastoral care while the pastor is on vacation. Note that it does not state in any way that the pastor’s vacation may be nixed by the bishop if it is difficult to find a temporary replacement. The pastor’s right to an annual vacation is a given; the diocese must work around it.

Depending on the diocese, there may be a general rule that while a parish pastor is away, the assistant priest (if there is one) fulfills his role; or perhaps a diocese may draw on priest-professors in its seminary to fill in for pastors while they’re gone, especially in summer months when the seminary is closed. In rural or missionary areas, it may be tricky to find a temporary replacement, but this still does not obviate the right of the pastor to take his vacation.

What about an assistant pastor (technically termed a “parochial vicar”)? Canon 550.3 states that as far as vacation-time is concerned, the assistant has exactly the same rights as a pastor.

Note that a priest does not necessarily have the right to take his vacation whenever he wants. Common sense dictates, for example, that ordinarily it is better if the pastor and his assistant don’t both go away at the same time. Similarly, it goes without saying that priests usually cannot leave their parishes at the busiest liturgical times of the year, such as Christmas. Still, there are occasions when a priest may have no choice about the date—if his nephew is getting married hundreds of miles away, for instance, and wants his priest-uncle to officiate at the wedding, a priest may very well plan this specific absence months in advance. If by coincidence this turns out to be a busy time at his parish (because of construction work, say), the parish normally will simply have to get along without him until his return.

We can see in these canons a very human concern for the well-being of our clergy. The Church is fully aware how exhausting and stressful the daily life of a parish priest can be. And given the clergy-shortage that essentially affects every part of the United States, the average priest may very well be performing the work of two or even three priests on a regular basis. Many of our clergy are not only assigned to parish work, but they also fulfill some role in the diocesan chancery—a role which may have originally been intended as a full-time job in itself. Many pastors function alone in huge parishes where they desperately need the help of an assistant priest, but none is available. Others serve as pastor of more than one parish. In short, the code acknowledges that our priests work hard, and deserve at least an occasional break! They have the right to look forward to a rest. How many of them could we reasonably expect to carry on without one?

This past June 16, our Holy Father proclaimed the next twelve months a Year for Priests. In his Letter of Proclamation, Benedict XVI recalled “the memory of the first parish priest at whose side I exercised my ministry as a young priest: he left me an example of unreserved devotion to his pastoral duties, even to meeting his own death in the act of bringing viaticum to a gravely ill person.” Too often, the (frequently heroic) selflessness of the parish clergy is taken for granted and thus unappreciated. Yet if we stop and think about how hard they really work, the job our priests do may actually be an inspiration—as a young Father Joseph Ratzinger was inspired by his fellow-priest decades ago.

As the Pope told us last year, when he visited Washington DC, “I ask you to love your priests, and to affirm them in the excellent work that they do.” Instead of resenting their absence, we should rather feel gratitude at the very thought that our clergy should return from their annual vacations with renewed energy to serve us.

A: Notre Dame University, which is located within the territory of the diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend, Indiana, is run by the Holy Cross Fathers, a clerical religious institute.  As virtually every Catholic in this country already knows, the decision to invite President Obama to the school’s 2009 graduation ceremony, where he received an honorary degree, was ultimately made by Notre Dame’s president, Holy Cross Father John Jenkins—who therefore could presumably have later rescinded the invitation if he had chosen to do so.  Very soon after the invitation was made public, the bishop of the diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend, John M. D’Arcy, announced that he would not be attending this year’s commencement ceremonies in protest.  The presence of the local bishop at Notre Dame’s graduation has become a tradition, so his absence was intended—and was seen—as a strong protest against the school’s decision to honor a president who has consistently taken positions on life issues that are diametrically opposed to those of the Catholic Church.   But could Bishop D’Arcy have done more?

On the surface, it would appear that the diocesan bishop ought to be able to take direct, decisive action when he judges that activities at a Catholic university within his territory are causing scandal and/or promoting teachings contrary to the Catholic faith.  After all, canon 386.2 notes that the bishop is to firmly defend the integrity and unity of the faith by whatever means seem most appropriate to him. In this case, couldn’t one argue that forbidding Notre Dame to follow through with its plans to honor a pro-abortion president would be an appropriate way to defend the faith?

But the answer is not so simple. At issue here is the fact that Notre Dame University was established, and is operated, by a religious institute—the Holy Cross Fathers. This situation is by definition an extremely common one:  groups of religious routinely establish all sorts of schools, hospitals, and charitable entities within various diocesan boundaries. While the diocesan bishop naturally has the duty and the right to safeguard the spiritual welfare of the faithful within his territory, the religious who are living and working there are directly answerable not to the bishop, but to their own religious superiors. In practice, both religious and bishops are ordinarily well aware of the complexities of their inter-relationship, and of each other’s rights and responsibilities. Let’s take a look at some of the more common situations that one finds throughout in the Church in the United States, and at the ways in which canon law applies to them. Then we can look at the specific case of Notre Dame and the diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend, and answer Melissa’s question directly.

By definition, convents and monasteries housing sisters, brothers, or priests must be located within some diocese or archdiocese. For a group of religious to come into a diocese and establish a house like this, the bishop’s advance permission is always required (c. 609.1 ). In other words, it would be canonically impossible for (let’s say) a group of Catholic sisters to enter the diocese of X on their own initiative to found a new convent, if the bishop of X for some reason didn’t want them there. And occasionally a bishop may very well not want a particular group of religious in his diocese.  He may feel, for example, that there are already enough different religious institutes in his territory, without adding one more. Or perhaps he may object to some questionable theological position promoted by a particular religious institute. Regardless of his reasoning, the bishop’s approval is key.

Similarly, the bishop’s permission is also needed if a religious institute already functioning in his diocese wishes to undertake a new type of work there. If, for example, a group of brothers already living in a monastery within diocese X now want to open a soup-kitchen to feed the homeless in one wing of their monastery, they must first obtain permission from the bishop of X (c. 612 ). However laudable their desire to feed the hungry may be, the bishop may have excellent practical reasons for not wanting these religious to do this. The important thing to keep in mind here is that religious cannot simply do as they please, when their plans involve engaging in work within a particular bishop’s territory. They are bound in these cases to abide by the bishop’s decision.

At the same time, however, once a particular religious institute has been allowed to establish a house within his diocese, the bishop does not have the authority to meddle in their internal operations. After the bishop permits them to “set up shop” in his territory, these religious then have the right to establish their house in accord with their own internal statutes (c. 611 n. 1 ). Thus a bishop may not interfere, for example, if he feels that a convent of sisters has elected a superior whom he believes is a bad choice. Likewise, if a sister were to be punished by dismissal from a convent within his diocese, the bishop could not intervene on her behalf if he personally felt she had been unjustly treated. These are internal matters that are ultimately subject to the superiors of a religious institute, who may very well live far outside the bishop’s diocese (many of the major religious orders actually have their General Headquarters in Rome).  If the bishop really felt strongly about what he perceived to be a problem within a religious house in his diocese, he himself would be obliged to take it up with these superiors instead of attempting to act on his own.

Some common arrangements between bishops and religious are even more complicated. A bishop may have in his diocese a parish which he chooses to entrust to the care of a clerical religious institute, like the Dominicans or Franciscans. As canon 520 points out, the decision to do this rests with both the bishop and the religious superior, who hammer out an agreement specifying the responsibilities and expectations of both the diocese and the institute. From time to time a cases arises where (for example) the religious superior wants to re-assign to another duty a member who is currently serving as a pastor of a diocesan parish; or where the bishop objects to the religious who is serving as pastor and wants the institute to replace him with another priest. While handling these situations occasionally can get tricky in a legal sense, in general the bishop and the religious superior know how to respond based on their written agreement.

So how does all this apply to Notre Dame?  The school was founded more than 150 years ago, on land given to the Holy Cross Fathers by the bishop of Vincennes (the name of the diocese which then included this area within its territory). The school is, and always has been, operated by the Holy Cross Fathers—in other words, it certainly has never been operated by the diocese. Insofar as Notre Dame is a Holy Cross school, its inner workings are subject to the religious institute. (It should be noted that for civil-law purposes, there is also undoubtedly a Board of Trustees with some significant authority, but this does not necessarily affect the school’s status under canon law and thus need not concern us here.)

While the bishop of Fort Wayne-South Bend cannot (and in this case did not try to) micromanage the internal affairs of Notre Dame, he certainly still has the duty to ensure that a school located within his territory, identifying itself as Catholic, does not publicly engage in activity that can be perceived as contrary to the Catholic faith. Not only does the bishop have the general obligation to protect the faith of the Catholics living in his diocese, as already noted above, but he also has the specific right and duty to ensure that Catholic universities within his territory are holding to the principles of the Catholic faith (c. 810.1 ).

But before anyone is tempted to castigate Bishop D’Arcy for failing to prevent Obama’s appearance at Notre Dame, it is important to keep in mind that there is nowhere in the code any obligation for discussions between a diocesan bishop and a Catholic university on such a matter to be made public. There is no doubt that many words were exchanged between Bishop D’Arcy and Notre Dame’s President, Father Jenkins. It is also a safe bet that Notre Dame heard from many others in the Catholic hierarchy here in the United States—and it would not be surprising if the Vatican itself was involved as well. Additionally, there was unquestionably a tremendous amount of discussion on this issue among the Holy Cross Fathers themselves, many of whom were adamantly opposed to the presidential invitation. It would be difficult to imagine that the Superior General of their institute has not been involved personally too.

Yet as we saw in the October 16, 2008 column regarding pro-abortion politicians receiving Holy Communion, it is never the Church’s intent to issue humiliating condemnations which would only cause one to defend himself by digging in his heels even further. The purpose of any protest is always meant to be constructive, not destructive. Consequently it should not be surprising that those church officials involved have generally avoided trumpeting their positions to the press, which was so anxious to portray the problem as some sort of political conflict, with a “right” and a “left.” All of those involved—with the obvious exception of Obama himself—are members of the Catholic Church, and thus there ideally should be no “sides” here!

Some years ago, a different Catholic university, also operated by a religious institute, became embroiled in a comparable conflict, with its students and alumni loudly protesting against campus activity that directly contradicted Catholic teaching. The school’s administration publicly refused to change its position. For many months, it appeared that nothing was being done to correct the scandal. The diocesan bishop correctly stated that, while he was concerned, direct intervention had first to be made primarily by the superiors of the religious institute operating the university. The Vatican, while informed of the problem, outwardly seemed to do nothing. Many Catholics on that occasion angrily vilified the Church’s hierarchy for its apparent indifference.

But I myself learned at the time from persons directly involved that the reality behind the scenes was very different. There were extensive ongoing discussions between the school’s president, the Superior of the religious institute running the university, the bishop, and the Vatican itself. The school’s president was quietly summoned to Rome and told in no uncertain terms, although in private, that the offending activity was to cease immediately and for good. That president subsequently put a halt to that activity and stepped down as president soon after—and the problem has never arisen at that particular university again.

The point is that while Catholics on the outside were frustrated that nothing was being done, on the inside the problem definitely was being resolved. But it was done without public embarrassment and everyone’s reputation was protected. The president of that university, and others in its administration who were responsible for permitting the anti-Catholic campus activity, were admonished but not professionally destroyed. They got the message, without feeling forced to publicly defend themselves.

This is certainly not to suggest that there is necessarily an identical plan afoot concerning the president of Notre Dame! But it is important for Catholics watching from the outside to be aware that although it may seem that some church authorities outwardly did little or nothing, it is not unreasonable to rest assured that things may be very different at Notre Dame in the future. We don’t need to know the details, for while “transparency” may be an admirable political goal, it does not apply to the Church.

A: As has been seen so many times before in this space, canon law is grounded in theology. The most fundamental theological teaching about the sacrament of penance—that reception of the sacrament is necessary when we are conscious of having committed grave sin (c. 988.1 )—will never change, because as Catholics we believe that this sacrament was instituted for this very purpose by Christ Himself. What can change over time, however, are the disciplinary practices (what one might call “housekeeping details”) pertaining to this sacrament, like that described in Janet’s question. Let’s take a look at what the current law says about confessing one’s sins at Easter time, and compare it to church law in the past.

Most American Catholics are at home with the traditional notion that while we should go to confession throughout the year, it is particularly necessary at Christmas and Easter time. In fact, however, there is no legal requirement to receive the sacrament at these particular times. Canon 989 states merely that everyone who has reached the age of discretion is required to confess his grave sins at least once a year. On the surface, it’s a very simple, straightforward canon, but let’s unpack it to be sure we understand exactly what is required of us.

The mention of the “age of discretion” refers to the fact that children who are too young to have made their First Confession are of course exempt from this obligation. The implication, therefore, is that once a child has reached the age of reason and has received the sacrament of penance for the first time, this annual requirement applies.

The canon notes specifically that a Catholic is required to confess his grave (i.e., mortal) sins. Thus if he is not conscious of having committed any such sins, there is no requirement to receive the sacrament. The preceding canon does note that it is recommended that the faithful also confess their venial sins (c. 988.2 ); but a recommendation is not an obligation.

Therefore, technically speaking, a person who does not commit any mortal sins throughout his life is not required to go to confession at any time, including the Easter season. Obviously canon 989 does not contain any particularly stringent requirements, and to many Catholics may actually seem quite lax! Was the law more demanding in the past?

Not at all. As was discussed in greater detail back in the September 8, 2007 column , the current Code of Canon Law was promulgated in 1983 by Pope John Paul II, replacing the previous code of 1917. Our current canon 989 is virtually identical to the 1917 code’s canon 906. That canon, in turn, was based on the discipline decreed by the Church during the Council of Trent (1545-1563), formulated in response to protestant claims that sacramental confession of one’s sins to a priest was not of divine origin and was unnecessary. We can see that with regard to a Catholic’s obligation to confess his sins annually, nothing whatsoever has been changed for nearly 500 years!

It is important to keep in mind here that the code is mandating the absolute minimum that is acceptable for a practicing Catholic. If one adheres to the minimum requirements, he is not violating the law—but that does not necessarily mean that doing only the bare minimum is a good idea.

Nor is it a good idea to fall into the trap of thinking that it is not worthwhile to confess sins that are “just” venial. Pope John Paul, in his 1984 Apostolic Exhortation Reconciliation and Penance , noted that venial sin “must never be underestimated, as though it were automatically something that can be ignored or regarded as ‘a sin of little importance’” (17). It is well known that the late pontiff himself confessed his sins every single day—and one might reasonably assume that they were venial, rather than mortal sins!

So what was happening in Janet’s parish when she was a kid? The practice she describes, which was not unique, was one means that parish pastors sometimes used in the past to try to ensure that none of their parishioners received Holy Communion at Easter time in a state of mortal sin.

For while the code does not mandate that we Catholics must receive the sacrament of penance at any particular time of year, it does specify that we receive Holy Communion during the Easter season. Canon 920 notes that once a Catholic has received his First Holy Communion, he is obliged to receive this sacrament at least once a year, during paschal time (i.e., between Easter and Pentecost). This, and not a perceived requirement to go to confession, is the actual origin of the term “Easter Duty.”

But it does tie in directly with a requirement to receive the sacrament of penance first, if one has committed mortal sin. Canon 916 simply restates Catholic sacramental theology when it asserts that anyone who is conscious of grave sin may not receive the Eucharist without first having gone to confession.

Consequently, a pastor like Janet’s might reasonably have expected that at Easter, Holy Communion would be received by everyone in his parish—including some who ordinarily might not receive the sacrament, for a variety of reasons. Perhaps there were some parishioners who the pastor knew well were not regularly practicing their faith, or who might even be living scandalously sinful lives. If such people were to approach a priest distributing Holy Communion at Easter Sunday Mass, he might logically be concerned that they could still be in a state of grave sin. In order to obviate this problem, the pastor apparently established a system to determine whether in fact each parishioner had received the sacrament of penance before Easter. If he knew that everybody had done so, he might rest easier about giving them all the Eucharist. It was not a fool-proof system, of course, but it was a logical and sincere attempt to ensure that nobody was making a sacrilegious Communion in the parish.

A couple of significant problems with this approach are perhaps the reasons why it is not a current, widespread practice. Firstly, the system presumes that every parishioner will go to confession in his own parish. But there is no obligation to receive the sacrament of penance in a particular church or from a particular priest. Canon 991 states clearly that every Catholic is free to confess his sins to a confessor of his own choice, even to one of another rite. Lest anyone wonder whether this is an innovation in the 1983 code, the corresponding canon in the 1917 code was, once again, virtually identical. This means that anyone may lawfully go to confession in any Catholic parish; and this holds true even if, for example, the Catholic is a member of the Latin rite and he wishes to go to confession at a Byzantine-rite Catholic parish. (The different rites within the universal Catholic Church were discussed in more detail in the September 20, 2007 column .) So if Janet’s pastor did not receive a card from one of his parishioners, it was always possible that the person had gone to confession somewhere else. The pastor could not necessarily make any definitive conclusions about a parishioner’s failure to submit the card to him.

The second objection is more pastoral than canonical, and concerns a penitent’s privacy. While there are plenty of Catholics who are quite content to confess their sins face-to-face, in the sight of the priest (who may recognize them if he already knows them personally), there are also a significant number of faithful who prefer anonymity. There is certainly nothing wrong with a penitent preferring to use a confessional with a grill or other privacy-screen between him and the confessor; nor even with a person wishing to confess specifically to a priest who does not know him at all! Especially, though not exclusively, in cases where a penitent feels a particular embarrassment about having to confess a certain sin, it may be much easier to receive the sacrament in the darkened interior of a traditional confessional-box, from an unknown confessor whom he may very well never meet again. Even if a parishioner believes that the priest(s) of his own parish may not be able to identify him, the need to somehow reach around inside the confessional and hand the priest a card may very well enable him to do just that! Thus this system, while intended to encourage parishioners to go to confession before Easter, could actually discourage some of them from doing so.

To answer Janet’s question, therefore, the law concerning mandatory reception of the sacrament of penance has certainly not changed in our lifetimes. But the disciplinary practice at her childhood parish—which in any case was never a universal custom—is not in force throughout the Catholic Church today. The methods which the Church may use to urge or encourage Catholics to frequent the confessional can vary; but the need for us all to receive this sacrament regularly will always remain unchanged.

A: The term nun is casually used today to refer to all women religious. But in reality, very few of the women we address as “Sister” are actually nuns.

As was mentioned in the November 20, 2008 column, the Church’s laws on religious life are extremely complicated, not only because of the huge number of different religious institutes in existence, but also because they were founded at various times in the 2000-year history of the Church for widely differing reasons. At the same time, there are very few canons in the Code of Canon Law pertaining to these institutes, since each is regulated by its own, specific proper law, approved by church authorities.

Nevertheless, it is still possible to make a few general statements about the different broad categories of women religious, which will be valid for all. As a rule, for example, all women religious make vows and live a fraternal life in common (c. 607.2). Their houses must have been established with the approval of either the diocesan bishop or of the Pope himself. (If a group of Catholic women decide independently that they wish to live celibate lives together in the same house and maintain a common prayer life, that may very well be a laudable decision, but in itself it does not make them women religious in the Church’s sense of the term.)

But while all women religious share this in common, their similarities often end right there. We all know that the members of different religious institutes engage in a wide variety of ministries. Many sisters are teachers, while a large number are nurses or are otherwise engaged in hospital ministry. Others may be employed in more humble sorts of work, as parish secretaries or housekeepers for the clergy. But no matter what these sisters are doing, they are all involved in active work in the world. One might run into them not only praying in church, but also on the street, in the grocery store or at the gas station. They live a communal life together in a convent, but can and must leave it regularly in order to perform their ordinary, daily duties.

Very different is the daily life of those women religious who embrace the contemplative life. Certain religious institutes were founded so that their members may spend their entire lives removed from the world, engaged in prayer. Those women who make permanent vows in such institutes are voluntarily agreeing to spend the rest of their lives shut away in a cloister, away from the outside world, and as a general rule they are unable ever to set foot outside their convent walls again. If cloistered women religious attend a Mass in a church that adjoins their convent, or receive visitors, there is ordinarily a metal grille that physically keeps them separated from other people.

The Church makes legal distinctions between these two basic categories of women religious. Women religious who are actively engaged in some sort of apostolate are referred to as sisters, and those who leave the world and willingly embrace the monastic life are nuns.  This gets confusing because either a sister or a nun is ordinarily addressed directly as “Sister X.” Thus people tend to think that the two terms are interchangeable—but they aren’t. While a cloistered nun is called “Sister,” this does not mean that all sisters are nuns!

Canon 667.3 notes that monasteries of nuns who are wholly devoted to the contemplative life must observe what is called papal enclosure. The norms governing their cloister are actually established by the Vatican itself. On the other hand, those sisters who work out in the world—who are not nuns—still have as a rule an obligation to live in a convent, in common, but their separation from the world is not nearly so strict as that of nuns.

So what happens when a nun in a cloister breaks her leg, or needs emergency heart-bypass surgery? Under such urgent circumstances, of course, a nun is permitted to leave the cloister for the hospital—once the appropriate superior gives permission. Similarly, while nobody from the outside world is permitted to enter a cloister, superiors routinely give permission to priests who come to minister to a dying nun; doctors and other medical workers who must attend a sick nun; and plumbers, electricians, and other construction workers who have to make repairs inside the monastery. There are normally no other exceptions.

During World War II, the cloistered Poor Clare nuns in Assisi took a large number of Jewish Italians inside their cloister, to protect them from the German Nazis who had occupied that part of Italy. This was the first time that their very strict rule of enclosure had been violated since the monastery’s establishment in the 13th century! Even the Nazi soldiers (many of whom were Catholics who had been involuntarily drafted into the German army) were loathe to enter the nuns’ cloister to check for hidden refugees, and this enabled the Church to protect the Jews until arrangements could be made for their escape to safe locations outside German-held territory. Needless to say, the law of charity rightly triumphed in this case over the nuns’ proper law—but it was in fact an extraordinary technical violation of the Poor Clares’ rule, and it was done with permission of their superiors. This concrete example should give us an indication of the seriousness with which papal enclosure is regarded by the Church.

To return to Mark’s question, it is safe to say that even without knowing which religious institute the school principal belongs to, she was absolutely correct to say that she is not a nun. Any sisters working outside their convent cannot possibly be cloistered, and therefore those working in his children’s school are definitely not nuns. It is not necessarily insulting to refer to such sisters as nuns, but it is inaccurate, and the school principal was probably using the conversation with the other parent as a classic “teaching moment.”

A: Lent has just begun, and we Catholics are well aware of the obligation to abstain from meat on Fridays until the Easter season. Vince’s question, however, doesn’t specifically address Lenten abstinence, but rather the traditional requirement that Catholics refrain from eating meat on Fridays year-round. As we all know, few Catholics actually follow this practice any more. But is that because we are no longer required to do so, or because the majority of Catholics are actually ignoring church law?

Canon 1250 states that the days and times of penance for the whole Church are the Fridays of the entire year, and the season of Lent. And canon 1251 gives further details on just how Catholics are to make these days penitential: Unless a solemnity falls on a Friday, abstinence from meat, or some other food as determined by the Bishops’ Conference, is to be observed on all Fridays; while Ash Wednesday and Good Friday are days of both abstinence and fasting. There is quite a lot of information in this latter canon, so let’s unpack it.

First of all, if a solemn holy day happens to fall on a Friday, Catholics are not expected to follow the ordinary rules of abstinence. Engaging in penitential practices on days of celebration, like Christmas or New Year’s Day, goes against the very notion of what a “feast” day really is. Similarly, if a wedding happens to take place on a Friday, abstinence at the wedding reception would be incongruous with true celebration. This is why traditionally bishops have announced that when an important feast-day within the diocese falls on a Friday, Catholics are not required to abstain from meat on that day. Once in a while, a pastor will dispense some of his parishioners for a more localized reason (like a wedding). Many readers at some point have probably heard such announcements made about St. Patrick’s Day in dioceses with large numbers of Irish, or about St. Joseph’s Day in areas with a significant Italian population. Since such feast-days have greater cultural importance in some regions than in others, it would make little sense for the entire Church worldwide to be dispensed from abstinence when these feasts fall on a Friday.

Secondly, the canon states that abstinence and fasting are to be observed on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. Practicing Catholics here in the US are certainly familiar with this regulation, and so it need not concern us here.

But less clear is the requirement that on all Fridays throughout the year, we are to abstain from meat or some other food as determined by the Bishops’ Conference. What is a Bishops’ Conference, anyway? And what has it said about this?

A Bishops’ Conference (also known as an Episcopal Conference) is a permanent institution comprising all the bishops of a country or a particular territory, that as a body exercises certain pastoral functions for the faithful of their territory (c. 447 ). In the US, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) is located here in Washington, DC, and all the bishops of dioceses within the United States are de facto members. Generally, the bishops of each country together form their own Bishops’ Conference; but in some parts of the world, particularly in poorer countries or small countries with low Catholic populations, an Episcopal Conference may include the bishops of more than one country. In Africa, for example, the bishops of Gambia, Liberia, and Sierra Leone together form a single Inter-Territorial Catholic Bishops’ Conference. The Irish Episcopal Conference includes not only all the bishops of the Republic of Ireland, but those of the Catholic dioceses in Northern Ireland (which is part of a separate country) as well.

One could say that the functions of an Episcopal Conference are largely pastoral. Probably most of us are at least vaguely familiar with statements issued over the years by our USCCB on issues like the rights of immigrants, or the duty of all Catholics to respect human life. Such statements in and of themselves are not laws; rather, they ordinarily constitute practical applications of Catholic teaching here in the US. Of course each diocesan bishop can, and should, be teaching the people of his diocese about these subjects himself; but when important moral issues are relevant nation-wide, it is often useful for American bishops to be united in making a single public statement.

But there are a handful of places in the Code of Canon Law where the Church actually gives Bishops’ Conferences the right and obligation to make laws that bind all the bishops and all the Catholics in their territories. Canon 1251, regarding abstinence on Fridays, is one of them.

It may seem logical enough to us Westerners that abstaining from meat on certain days is a traditional form of penance. But in countries whose inhabitants might hardly ever eat meat anyway, it’s likely that such a requirement would be pointless—one might as well tell Catholics in such places that as penance they are to abstain from traveling to the moon! In some cultures there might very well be a better food to abstain from, if Catholics there are truly to perform a penitential act. This is why the Church has not given us here an absolute, across-the-board requirement that applies to all Catholics throughout the world. We all should perform penance, but what may be a true sacrifice in some cultures may not be a sacrifice at all in others. This is why each Bishops’ Conference was required by the Code of Canon Law to make its own, particular law on this subject.

So has our USCCB give us the required instructions about Friday abstinence for Catholics in the United States? Absolutely — in fact, we have had a Pastoral Statement on Penance and Abstinence on the books here in the US since 1966. It is true that these norms were in place many years before canon 1251 of the 1983 Code of Canon Law gave Bishops’ Conferences the obligation to provide them; but the Conference has rightly noted that since they fulfill the requirement, and are not contrary to any provisions of the 1983 code, they can remain in force even though they were made before that code even came into existence (cf. c. 6.1 n. 2 ).

But unfortunately, if we expect to find in this Pastoral Statement a black-and-white answer to our questions about Friday abstinence for American Catholics, we will be disappointed. The Statement contains many beautiful statements about the purpose of penance, which are theologically sound and thought-provoking, but it is decidedly non-specific about what exactly we are not supposed to eat on Fridays:

Changing circumstances, including economic, dietary, and social elements, have made some of our people feel that the renunciation of the eating of meat is not always and for everyone the most effective means of practicing penance. Meat was once an exceptional form of food; now it is commonplace.

Accordingly, since the spirit of penance primarily suggests that we discipline ourselves in that which we enjoy most, to many in our day abstinence from meat no longer implies penance, while renunciation of other things would be more penitential.

For these and related reasons, the Catholic bishops of the United States, far from downgrading the traditional penitential observance of Friday, and motivated precisely by the desire to give the spirit of penance greater vitality, especially on Fridays, the day that Jesus died, urge our Catholic people henceforth to be guided by the following norms:

Friday itself remains a special day of penitential observance throughout the year…For this reason we urge all to prepare for that weekly Easter that comes with each Sunday by freely making of every Friday a day of self-denial and mortification in prayerful remembrance of the passion of Jesus Christ.

Among the works of voluntary self-denial and personal penance which we especially commend to our people for the future observance of Friday, even though we hereby terminate the traditional law of abstinence binding under pain of sin, as the sole prescribed means of observing Friday, we give first place to abstinence from flesh meat. We do so in the hope that the Catholic community will ordinarily continue to abstain from meat by free choice as formerly we did in obedience to Church law… (Nos. 19-24 ).

In other words, the US bishops encourage all American Catholics to abstain from meat on Fridays — but if we can find a more effective type of penance to perform on Fridays, we are invited to do so. Our bishops have given each of us the green light to decide for ourselves how best to make our Fridays penitential. How sad, therefore, that most Catholics have wrongly interpreted this as meaning simply that “we don’t need to abstain from meat on Fridays anymore,” without replacing that abstinence with another form of penance! It is just as sad to realize that most of our diocesan clergy do not remind the Catholics under their care of this important obligation.

How many Catholics are genuinely unaware that they are actually required to perform some kind of penance every Friday? Sincere, practicing Catholics who honestly do not know of this obligation are of course not culpable for failing to follow it; but the fact remains that they should be made aware of this disciplinary rule.

Thus we can see that the answer to Vince’s question is actually more complicated than one might expect. Nevertheless, we can safely say that the popular idea that Friday abstinence has been completely “done away with” is oversimplistic. “Christ died for our Salvation on Friday,” the Pastoral statement points out (no. 18 ), and by some sort of penance we should be reminding ourselves of that pivotal element of our faith every single week.

A: This is an extremely good question, as it illustrates one of the great theological difficulties involved when people of different faiths want to marry. The Church recognizes that in general, marriage is a natural right, which is certainly not reserved exclusively to Catholics or to Christians. At the same time, the Catholic Church teaches that marriage is one of the seven sacraments.  So how can these apparently conflicting teachings be reconciled? Let’s look first at marriages involving non-Catholic, baptized Christians, and then at marriages of the unbaptized.

Canon 1055.1 echoes the Second Vatican Council’s Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et Spes 48) when it asserts that the marriage covenant has, between the baptized, been raised by Christ to the dignity of a sacrament. The following paragraph is even more precise: a valid marriage cannot exist between two baptized persons without it being by that very fact a sacrament (c. 1055.2).

This means that when two Catholics, two protestants, or a Catholic and a protestant marry validly, their marriage is by definition a sacramental marriage. Ironically, not all protestants agree with this! Lutherans, for example, do not believe that there are seven sacraments, for they accept only two, baptism and the Lord’s Supper. This means that when two baptized Lutherans marry validly in a Lutheran church, they themselves do not believe that their marriage is sacramental. Catholics, in contrast, will unhesitatingly assert that this Lutheran marriage is in fact a sacramental marriage, whether the spouses accept that or not. Simply put, we believe that it is impossible for two baptized people to validly marry without their marriage being a sacrament.

Since the Church decides what is a valid Catholic sacrament and what isn’t, it follows that when two people marry in a Catholic wedding ceremony, the Church has the authority to determine exactly what it is that makes the marriage valid. In the case of two Catholics, this is hardly surprising; but in the case of a Catholic marrying a protestant, it requires some explanation. After all, non-Catholics can’t be expected to follow Catholic teaching, right?

The answer may be surprising. It is indeed true that church laws are binding on Catholics only—unless a non-Catholic chooses to marry a Catholic in the Church. In such a case, Catholic theology and laws apply to both parties. This is why the canons of the code pertaining to marriage bind not only all Catholics, but also anyone outside the Church who marries a Catholic (c. 1059). We see here one of the many reasons why marriage preparation is so important: Catholic sacramental theology must be explained clearly to non-Catholic spouses, so that they understand and can knowingly will a valid Catholic marriage at the exchange of wedding vows. Simply willing a marriage as they personally understand it is not enough.

As was discussed in the July 26, 2007 column, the Church teaches that when two people marry in a Catholic wedding ceremony, they are actually administering the sacrament to each other. When a non-Catholic marries a Catholic, he has to intend the same exclusivity, perpetuity, and mutual self-giving that Catholics must have, if his consent is to be valid. When this is done, the result is a valid Catholic marriage that involves one spouse who isn’t even Catholic! It is also, as we’ve just seen above, a sacramental marriage.

But when a marriage involves at least one party who is unbaptized, the situation is different. By definition, a person who is not baptized cannot be married sacramentally. Both the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 1213)and canon law (c. 849) state that baptism is the “gateway to the sacraments,” because a person must be baptized first before receiving any of the other six sacraments — including the sacrament of matrimony.

When two Buddhists marry in a Buddhist ceremony, their marriage is obviously not sacramental since they are unbaptized. But this does not mean that the Catholic Church does not recognize their marriage — it does. If the Buddhist religious authorities acknowledge the marriage as valid, the Catholic Church does too. The two Buddhists can be validly married, without their marriage being sacramental.

Now let’s take this a step further. When a Catholic marries a Jew, a Muslim, or any other nonbaptized person, even when the wedding is celebrated validly in the Catholic Church, their marriage is non-sacramental. It cannot be otherwise, since it involves one party who is not baptized. The Church regards it as a totally legitimate marriage — and a valid one, assuming that nothing happened at the celebration to render it invalid — but this wedding did not involve the celebration of a sacrament. The fact that one of the spouses is Catholic is insufficient to make the marriage sacramental, since a sacramental marriage requires both parties to have been baptized.

On the face of it, this may sound objectionable, but nothing morally wrong is going on here! It is not inherently sinful to have a non-sacramental marriage.  It is true that, as we saw in the August 9, 2007 column, the Church does not as a rule permit marriages between Catholics and the unbaptized (c. 1086.1). But the diocesan bishop may, if he sees fit, grant a dispensation to permit such a wedding to be celebrated in the Catholic Church (c. 85). The Church’s main concern will always be for the faith of the Catholic party to the marriage; but if there is no obvious, well-founded fear that the Catholic will be prevented from practicing his faith, or will leave the Church through indifference, the bishop will ordinarily allow it to take place. Keep in mind that if there were something intrinsically evil about the marriage of a Catholic to an unbaptized person, the Church would never permit the possibility of a dispensation under any circumstances.

Hopefully we can all by now appreciate the theological nuances involved in answering Brian’s question. An unbaptized person who marries a Catholic does not receive the sacrament of matrimony — nor does the Catholic spouse in this case. But a baptized non-Catholic does, with proper pre-marital preparation, both receive a Catholic sacrament and confer one on his Catholic spouse, whether he actually believes he is doing so or not. In both cases, a valid marriage is possible, and the Catholic party remains in good standing within the Catholic Church.

If this all sounds to Catholics as if it’s more complex than it should be, well, it is. The problem, however, is not that the Church’s laws are too complicated; rather, the problem is that society is filled with so many non-Catholic religions! Over the past several centuries, the Catholic Church has been obliged by the realities of the protestant Reformation, and also by the spread of Catholicism into largely non-Christian cultures, to recognize that sometimes Catholics want to marry those who do not share our faith. The Church would of course prefer that everyone on earth would embrace Catholic teachings, and this certainly would simplify its marriage law! But the Church cannot legislate marriage based on the way things should be. It has to work with things the way they really are.