AS clerical celibacy an appropriate way of being a man? Before the on going clerical sexual scandals and revelations of recent years you could be forgiven for thinking that there were three sexes in Irish society: men, women and priests.
Priests were largely regarded as asexual beings, eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven, considered sexually, rather than merely metaphorically, neutered.
Crude Catholic stereotypical images of priests have shifted dramatically. Thirty years ago, the priest was highly regarded as a well educated, self sacrificing mediator between God and man. Nowadays the priest can be portrayed as a developmentally stunted, sexually repressed or perverse individual who either cannot or dare not think for himself or speak freely.
Not surprisingly, seminaries are closing and priests can now feel obliged to justify their life choice to an increasingly hostile audience in a way that other men don't need to. The aggression they can face in light of recent sex scandals is understandable given the high moral ground from which priests always claimed to speak.
The Catholic Church has long regarded celibacy as superior to marriage. No less a figure than Thomas Aquinas added his weight to this view in the Summa Theologiae: "Perpetual continence is necessary for perfect piety" and he reminded his readers that Jovinian was condemned for putting marriage on the same level as virginity. (Jovinian was condemned in 391 for arguing that Jesus would have broken Mary's hymen during birth.) In 1563 the Council of Trent proclaimed: "If anyone says that the married state surpasses that of virginity or celibacy, and that it is not better and happier to remain in virginity or celibacy than to be united in matrimony, anathema sit". And recently Pope John Paul II added his voice to the belief. In his letter to priests on Holy Thursday 1995, he spoke of the "superiority of virginity" over marriage.
Generations of Catholics grew up being told that sex was, at best, tainted with sin. Women, until well into this century, were subjected to sexual taboos like "churching" after childbirth. It is only this century that Catholic theology has permitted pleasure in the marriage bed while insisting that each act of copulation must be open to the possibility of conception.
Perhaps the potential of celibacy as a gift is lost behind the smokescreen of alleged superiority and actual clerical power.
"I honestly can't understand why anyone would choose to be celibate," says Hugh Arthurs, a psychologist in private practice in Dublin. "I wonder about the reasons behind men who do that turning celibacy into a pseudo mystical choice and avoiding the real issues underlying it. We make choices for all kinds of reasons, often spurious, and we find reasons to justify them. But it's important to reflect on what he's hidden rather than the grandiose rationale. That also applies to marriage. But with marriage you're brought down to earth effectively. There's a danger that celibates don't get brought down to earth."
According to Dr Harry Ferguson, a senior lecturer in the Department of Applied Social Studies, UCC, celibacy has been pathologised and has begun to be marginalised. "The problem here is not compulsory celibacy but compulsory heterosexuality for men." He believes that celibacy is now viewed as a perversion despite the fact that most sexual offences are perpetrated by actively heterosexual men. Ferguson says that the uncertainties and struggles of celibates are very similar to those of non celibates and argues that there are all kinds of different masculinities: "We know relatively little about Irish men's intimate lives but there's a lot of variation."
Edmund Grace is a Dublin based Jesuit priest who describes himself as "happy but imperfectly celibate just as some people are happy but imperfectly married". He sees his life as "oriented to God and prayer in a way that an option for marriage isn't", indicating, perhaps, that the belief in the superiority of celibacy over marriage is alive and well, if not uncontested. He believes he and his fellow Jesuits are emotionally mature and "tuned into the practicalities of life" although he concedes this could be questioned by their "charmed existence moneywise".
Grace says that at this time of disintegration and confusion for the clergy, the strongest affirmation of his celibacy has come from non celibate men. He says that the hardest thing for him was asking: "Am I just running away from life and from people"
That question has caused me grief as time goes by. I don't feel I'm a parasite but it doesn't answer the question. It could mean I'm successfully hidden."
. Man and Now: Changing Perspectives, a compilation of essays resulting from the men's conference at UCC last March was recently launched in Cork. It is available free of charge by sending a medium sized SAE to: The Men's Network Steering Committee, The Togher Family Centre, 6 Maglin Grove, Togher, Cork.