Bishops Follow Pope’s Example: Opulence Is Out. Eviction Is in

The NY Times published this article: Bishops Follow Pope’s Example: Opulence Is Out. Thank God Marquel, TPVs Times Religion and Opulence correspondent was on the job and wrote that:Seminaries search for new courses.

Marquel was surprised that so many cardinals and bishops were living in McMansions. Maybe it sounded a bit Irish and therefore properly Catholic? But the pope got the word out. No more. The bishop in Atlanta moved out before he moved in. Now it might be for sale. Or it might not.

What Marquel really wondered is where these big ideas came from. What did they teach them in seminary? So he went to find out.

At the Atlanta seminary, the Dean had a golden office with a walnut and mahogany desk bigger than that of the managing partner of a 500 partner international law office. Marquel wanted to know what kind of courses future bishops studied.

“Well,” said the Dean, “the standard courses. Theology, catechism, comparative religion, history, church history, papal doctrine. Then we offer counseling, psychology, marketing, communications, corporate structuring, finance, and, of course, Catholic ethics.”

“Hold on,” I said, “what’s this about marketing, corporate structuring, and finance. Since when do priests have to know such worldly things?”

“Let me tell you,” he started, “when I was in seminary, everything was about faith and God. Now they get MBAs.”

“MBAs at a seminary?” I wondered.

“No, they go on to graduate institutions like Stanford, Harvard, Michigan, and U. Va.” He moped.

“Aha!” I shouted. “Do you know what they study there?”

“Oh, yes,” he answered, “down to the last period. It concerns me.”

“So what seems to be the problem?” I asked.

“Problems,” he corrected, “first they learn the church is a corporate body. Then they learn that a corporation owes its duty first only to its shareholders, and that maximizing profits is their primary duty.”

“Seems to be good corporate law,” I said.

“I suppose,” he said, “if you’re a normal business corporation. But we are the church of Christ. Our duty is to the poor.”

“Bet they don’t teach that in business school, even Harvard.” I said.

“No, and they seem to teach them that ‘bigger is better.’ ” he said. “They spend one or two years on a business plan and those who make the most money, no matter how, get As. Then they buy a make believe mansion, two Ferraris, and a lap pool.”

“But it’s all just an exercise, imaginary,” I said.

“You might hope so,” he said, “but it’s very worrisome. They learn about mortgages and turning properties. Some of them actually make real money in those two years.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Millions,” he insisted, “I’m not exaggerating.”

“Isn’t there a vow of poverty?” I wondered, a bit stupidly. He nodded assent. “So what do they do with it?”

“It’s a little confusing. But as far as I understand, they put the money in trust and it eventually ends up in the parish to which they’re assigned.”

“Then what?” I asked.

“McMansions,” he said.

“So this is why it’s become news,” I concluded.

“It’s more complicated than that.” He asserted. “We have been encouraged to be more worldly. That’s a good thing. There is a place for praying monks but there is a greater need for priests with pastoral skills, who know life as it is lived by our parishioners.”

“So then maybe priests with MBAs is a good thing,” I said.

“You are more optimistic than I,” he said. “I worry. I truly worry…” He paused, then repeated quietly,” I worry.”

I was kind of shocked. The guy was really distraught over a few MBAs with projects and a couple of others who luckily made a killing. I felt I should console him. “This is really a minor bubble,” I said, “They go to business school, are taught how to manage and be profitable, have fun imagining their Ferraris, what is there to worry about?”

He looked at me for a long time then whispered, “trophy wives.”