Hello, good men

Via Mark Shea, here's a story from Crisis about moves toward a recovery of masculine spirituality within the ranks of the Catholic clergy. Excerpt:

Good seminaries are not simply enjoying a serendipitous influx of manlier applicants; they’re expressly targeting them. In what ought instantly to become the mantra of every rector and vocations director in the country, Monsignor Rohlfs tells how he seeks candidates who “exude a personality of quiet confidence and strength”; who demonstrate “an ability to relate to men and to fathers of families, as well as to children as a spiritual father”; and finally, “a spirituality that brings together the best qualities of a man.”

Earlier in the piece, author Todd Agliolora, drawing on the work of my pal Lee Podles, a conservative Catholic, says that the feminization of Catholicism in the last generation could have been an overcorrection against the hypermasculine distortions of 1950s Catholicism:

Podles theorizes that in the decades immediately preceding Vatican II, many men, “hardened by the horrors of war,” became priests and bishops, leading to a stereotype of the rough or aloof cleric, and to a style of catechesis that strenuously emphasized God’s fatherhood, strict moral norms, and a hyper-rationalized approach to theological questions. Meanwhile, the lay members of the Greatest Generation fell into a pattern of rigid, narrowly defined gender roles, of which men had uncontested dominance.

Ironically, this brief spike in Catholic manliness may have contributed to its own downfall, for by the 1960s a counter-movement had begun. In families there emerged a widespread rebellion against “paternalistic” authority. Priests and religious strove for softer, more “pastoral” approaches. And according to Ron Bolster, director of the Office of Catechetics at Franciscan University of Steubenville, religious education “began to emphasize methodology over content—the person being catechized over the object of catechesis.” The old regime’s stern and systematic approach to the Faith, with its “forced memorization, casuistry, rulers on the knuckles,” no longer served.

In many instances, Monsignor Swetland and Bolster both insist, there was a genuine correction in order, a worthy contribution from the “feminine” perspective to be made. But it all went too far, and quickly.

One of the first things I noticed about worshiping with the Maronites (one of the Eastern Rites of the Catholic Church) in Brooklyn was how many men were at mass, versus at the Roman rite masses. I've also seen in my extremely limited experience with the Orthodox church a lot more men at divine liturgy (Frederica Mathewes-Green has written about how when families convert, it's usually the husband and father who is first drawn to this comparatively rigorous form of Chrsitianity). I remember from reading Lee's book, "The Church Impotent," his saying that Eastern Christianity has historically not had the same problems keeping men involved in church than Western Christianity (both Catholic and Protestant) have. Anybody know if this is true, and if so, why? My copy of Lee's book is at home.

Last year, the Washington Post wrote a story about the relative absence of men at church. Their focus was on Protestantism. Here's the gist:

"We don't have to have hand-to-hand combat during the worship service to get men there," Murrow said. "We just have to start speaking [their language], use the metaphors they understand and create an environment that feels masculine to them."

Today's churches, Murrow argued, just aren't cutting it.

"My background is in marketing and advertising, and one day I was sitting in church, and all of a sudden it dawned on me that the target audience of almost everything about church culture was a 50- to 55-year-old woman," said Murrow, a Presbyterian elder who's now a member of a nondenominational congregation in Anchorage.

The gender gap is not a distinctly American one but it is a Christian one, according to Murrow. The theology and practices of Judaism, Buddhism and Islam offer "uniquely masculine" experiences for men, he said.

"Every Muslim man knows that he is locked in a great battle between good and evil, and although that was a prevalent teaching in Christianity until about 100 years ago, today it's primarily about having a relationship with a man who loves you unconditionally," Murrow said.

"And if that's the punch line of the Gospel, then you're going to have a lot more women than men taking you up on your offer because women are interested in a personal relationship with a man who loves you unconditionally. Men, generally, are not."

Preach it, brother. I'm trying to figure out why Eastern Christianity (including Eastern Rite Catholicism) appears to hold men in ways that Western Christianity does not. Tmatt has asked:

So why do some churches heavy on incense, candles and liturgy attract men (Eastern Orthodoxy), while others (think high-church Anglicanism and some Roman parishes) seem to drive men away?

I think a lot of it has to do with the seriousness of the liturgy. In our Maronite parish in Brooklyn, the liturgy was much more poetic and otherworldly than the Novus Ordo Roman rite. It was so unusual (in a good way) to me to find a Catholic liturgical rite that was both more poetic than the Roman liturgy, and more overtly masculine. The Orthodox divine liturgy of St. John Chrysostom is like this to. How come? The Catholic blogger Dom Bettinelli has an idea:

We might also look at the Mass and wonder if it too has been over-feminized. Men like ritual. Don’t believe me? Watch the stands at a professional baseball game. When the home team is losing in the late innings see how many rally caps appear. But it must be a certain kind of ritual. It must be majestic, soaring, even martial. It must challenge and call you on. [Emphasis mine -- RD.] In many ways that’s what the Tridentine Mass was. Even the fact that it was in Latin made it a challenge, something you had to work at, rather than become a passive observer.

I think that's it, or nearly it. In Eastern Christian liturgies, both Catholic and Orthodox, I've always had the overwhelming sense of participating in something that is both serious and transcending the everyday. I mean -- this is hard to pin down -- I've always felt like we were encountering the Almighty, and that that encounter was imbued with so much ritual power that you could hardly fail to be gripped by the compulsion to do something to change yourself, and your world.

This is the icon of manliness I grew up with in my own father. He was a gentle, caring, nurturing father, but he was also a man of great strength, both physically and morally, and courage. He taught my sister and me right from wrong, and expected us to do our moral duty, but he also was there to encourage us and be tender with us when we fell. It was a great way to grow up. He also didn't often go to church, I suspect in part because the services were usually all about taking time to smell the roses, and to realize that God loves us and has a wonderful plan for our lives. In other words, all about feeling, and very little about doing. At least doing anything heroic.

Another thing: I believe one reason so many male Christians responded deeply to Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ" was because it depicted a masculine Jesus who chose to endure excruciating pain to rescue those he loved. The Christian faith teaches that this is what Jesus did, but somehow the intense physical courage that that act of love required is easy to overlook. Gibson didn't overlook it. The Jesus Christ of his film embodied manliness par excellence: a strong, brave man who was willing to suffer and die to save others. After I saw that film in a press preview, then went to Ash Wednesday services and heard the plush priest give a homily about how Lent is really supposed to be about learning to love ourselves more, I wanted to slug the guy.

I'm getting rather far afield here. Sorry. I'd love to hear from readers in churches (synagogues, whatever) who do attract a good number of men. What are you doing right? For readers whose religious bodies are disproportionately female, what do you think your church could do to be more attractive to men, while also meeting the spiritual needs of women congregants? How does a church strike a good balance?