THE NOTHING OF A NAME

Nomina sunt notae rerum ("names are the marks of things"). Latin Legal Maxim

Below is an excerpt from an e-mail regarding a position of ours that's stirred up heated commentary. In light of the frenzy, handwringing, and head shaking this is the perfect time to explain our reasoning in a more detail.

I get it when you say Trad Clergy do not have a mission from the Church. No Dismissal [sic, Ed.] Letters, no Mandate etc. Problem comes when you say they are not Clergy in the "strict sense". Websters  [sic, Ed.] defines Clergy as "the body of men and women ordained to the service of God in the Christian church" [...] How come you say trad priests and bishops are not Clergy in the strict sense. The dictionary is a solid authority. We call Lutherans, Methodists, Episcopals [sic, Ed.] and Novus Ordos Clergy all the time. Seems like Trad Clergy are the same. They are ordained and Christian and serve God [...]

According to the general understanding in a religiously neutral, pluralistic society, we suppose sedes are clergy in the way that unchurched Joe Sixpack identifies an appointed or self-appointed minister of any confession as a clergyman. However, in our assertion we added the qualifying phrase "in the strict sense" purposely to exclude that over broad interpretation. We'll readily admit it must lie behind the definition found in every popular dictionary  — Merriam-Webster, New Oxford American, American Heritage, Random House,  you name it. However, our understanding is grounded in both the underlying meaning of the word and the privilegia or special rights traditional canonical doctrine grants to persons aggregated to the Roman Catholic clergy.

Let's begin with the etymology, which the Church subsumes in her own understanding. The word clergy comes from the Greek κλῆρος (klḗros), "what is obtained by lot, allotted portion, a share, a portion assigned, that which is assigned by lot, portion, share, place." Hence, at the most fundamental level, clergy are persons in the Roman Catholic Church who share ecclesiastical office and power and therefore exercise the clerical function in accordance with the portion or share of Church authority they possesses.

By etymology alone, then, it should be clear that outsider sedes are not in the Roman Catholic clerical state, which entitles its members to special rights. Absent those rights, no one may claim to be a member of the Roman Catholic clergy, valid orders notwithstanding. As Fr. Ledwolorz explained in Roberti's Dictionary of Moral Theology, the privileges of the clerical state are directed toward protecting the clergy's dignity. Without the privileges, there can be no clerical dignity and consequently no protection.  Bearing in mind that a privilege is an advantage or a benefit not enjoyed by everyone, the following practical consideration of the privileges of the clerical state vis-à-vis the sedes ought to convince PL's enlightened readership of the canonically disadvantaged cult "clergy's" profound otherness:

The first privilege is the privilegium canonis ("privilege of the canon") or the privilege of personal inviolability. There are indeed severe juridical penalties for laying violent hands on Catholic clergy. Nevertheless, if, after a physical altercation with a sede, a penitent layman approached the local ordinary to whom such a case is reserved, he immediately would learn he had not committed a sacrilegious offense against a bona-fide Roman Catholic clergyman. Chancery officials would then send him on his merry way.

The second is the privilegium fori  ("privilege of the forum").  A competent ecclesiastical authority would neither grant nor deny permission to cite these men before a secular court, nor would an ecclesiastical tribunal ever sit in judgment over them. They would have to face the music like any other layman who ran afoul of the law — in civil or criminal court before a judge and prosecutor. 

The third is the privilegium immunitatis ("privilege of immunity"). The institutional Church would not inflict excommunication on Catholic civil authorities who would impose on sedes burdens and obligations not compatible with the clerical state.  The powers-that-be are free to run roughshod over the sedes with impunity.

The fourth and most topical privilege (for the U.S. at least) is the privilegium competentiae ("privilege of competency"). An ecclesiastical judge would never grant a deadbeat sede "priest" or "bishop" a sufficient income for decent maintenance if the debt-ridden parasite were "forced to seek livelihood in an unworthy manner," as Ledwolorz expresses it.* His sole recourse might be to "Judge Judy," but then she would quickly inform the sede in front of millions of viewers, "You have no case! Pay your bills! Case dismissed. Byrd, escort this bum out of my courtroom."

This last privilege deserves a concrete look. On November 11, 2009 (5:50:17 PM EST), Big Don sent Cheeseball Checkie what looked like a form letter to be personalized and distributed to the legion of righteous souls who had fled the vile cult in the wake of the $GG School Scandal. In it, after summoning a wry, apocalyptic vision of "pigeons nesting in St. Gertrudes [sic] Church,**" the ever self-interested Tradzilla proposed these deliciously spiteful questions:

...if Bishop Dolan and Father Cekada go into retirement, or if you find one of them as a greeter in Wal-Mart in order to support himself, will you be then satisfied and content?...Will it encourage vocations to see Bishop Dolan stocking the shelves at Kroger, reduced to shame and poverty because he did not solve a school problem the way some thought he should?

In our reading, the Donster himself seems to stipulate tacitly that the privilege of competency would not be operational in the case of retirement or removal of the sede duo. If the Gruesome Twosome wanted to eat, they'd have to accept any employment they could get because they'd have no standing to demand support from the Church, in whose eyes they are aliens. As is true with all organizations, only members possess rights, and the absence of rights attendant to membership is robust, perhaps even conclusive, evidence that an individual does not belong to the group.

Inasmuch, therefore, as these oddballs are not Roman Catholic clergy in the strict sense, they possess none of the prerogatives of the clerical state (e.g., jurisdiction, precedence, etc.)  At best, their condition is, in effect, that of a laicized priest or bishop in the Latin Church, who has lost the clerical state (although his orders remain valid if they had been validly conferred in the first place).  For this reason, PL has argued that sedes, strictly speaking, should use neither clerical garb nor the distinctive titles of authentic Roman Catholic clergy.

Of course, we aren't naïve. In 21st-century America, when virtually any sleaze ball can (a) style himself (or herself) as "clergy," (b) sport ecclesiastical vesture, and (c) pass himself off as "Father" or "Bishop" or "Reverend," Catholics cannot seek relief from the law, which malignly ignores the usurpation of the Church's rights. We can, however, resist being duped into believing the cult masters have the slightest connection with the Roman Catholic Church.

They are not our pastors; consequently, we don't have to contribute to their support. They are not "the Lord's portion," for they have never been legitimately deputized to exercise the power of holy orders. They are marginalized laymen with souls disfigured by illicit orders, who live as inmates in an isolated parallel dimension, the name of which is Tradistan.

* We wonder whether these unprivileged ecclesiastical buccaneers realize how lucky they are to have morally depraved followers and fellow "clergy."  For instance, it's conceivable today that, even in the Novus Ordo, a priest who'd served 17 months in prison for manslaughter and subsequently lost a civil suit to a young woman he'd impregnated would be barred from exercising his ministry after all the publicity (click here). As an ex-con, he would've been obliged to find whatever employment he could—suitable or unsuitable —  in order to survive. But in degenerate Traddielandia, Dennis the Menace is still operating as a "clergyman" and today seems to be receiving invitations to spiritual retreats with his "clerical" colleagues.

** Little did Big Don know at the time that, in $GG's final days, there aren't pigeons nesting in the ramshackle cult center, but invading raccoons.