Summer school: why it's good for you & for the church

Commonweal, May 21, 2004 by Christopher Ruddy

One of my favorite students milks cows for a living. An organic farmer from the heart of Lake Wobegon (Freeport, Minnesota, is the home of Charlie's Cafe, the inspiration for Garrison Keillor's fictional Chatterbox Cafe), Rick Scherping works the same land his father did. He, just over fifty, and his wife, June, have seven children, three of whom were adopted from Guatemala. For nearly a year, Rick has served the diocese of St. Cloud as a deacon, working in a cluster of three parishes.

I first met Rick when I taught ecclesiology two summers ago at St. John's University in Collegeville, Minnesota. There were twelve of us, and four times a week for six weeks we worked through Scripture, tradition, the documents of Vatican II, and contemporary theologians. We were a surprisingly diverse group for a smal central-Minnesota campus: monks, nuns, and laypeople; young and older, single, celibate, and married; Easterners, Southerners, Midwesterners; urban, suburban, rural; cradle and convert Catholics alike.

I had dreaded teaching that summer. Tired from my first full year of teaching theology and my first months of fatherhood, I would have preferred to stay home in St. Paul avoiding the long commute to Collegeville. To top it all off, two weeks before class I cut my wrist severely and was unable to drive, tie my shoes, change my son's diapers, or even hold him. I joked that my wife was caring for two babies. She didn't find it funny.

Rick enrolled in the class as part of his diaconate formation. With only a high-school education, and faced with the demands of running a farm and raising three newly adopted children, he found the course work nearly overwhelming, and he almost quit. He persisted only because of prayer and the support of his family and church.

On our first day of class, Rick said that he didn't like to speak much and so would remain quiet. His nervousness was evident, but so was his smile. He seemed at once uneasy in the classroom and comfortable in his own skin.

As the weeks progressed, Rick blossomed. He was moved by words on evangelization from Vatican II and Pope Paul VI. He brought our class to silence when recounting stories of his mission work in Guatemala over the past decade and his brush with death there. The liberation ecclesiology of Jon Sobrino, SJ, was no abstraction to him. Rick had the authority that comes from integrity, intelligence, simplicity, and being close to the land. Not many students come into a 9:45 a.m. class after having spent the night helping a cow birth.

The course, it turns out, went well. The students formed a cohesive group, were respectful of one another, and despite having a wide range of abilities, did excellent work in discussions and in their final papers. They proved to be like the students I would meet in subsequent summers. Several hoped to pursue doctorates in theology, and one was to be ordained a priest, but most were lay ministers and teachers, or those preparing for such work. They represent the changing face of ministry, and their preparation in summer courses and workshops is one of the most promising and daunting challenges facing the American Catholic Church.

In their 1999 study, Parishes and Parish Ministers: A Study of Parish Lay Ministry, David DeLambo and the late Msgr. Philip Murnion set forth the outlines of a rapid and dramatic shift that is taking place in Catholic ministry in this country: the emergence of what has been inelegantly termed Lay Ecclesial Ministers (LEMs)--those laity (in canon law, nonordained religious are considered lay) who work at least twenty hours a week in salaried parish pastoral roles like catechesis and liturgy (but excluding parochial schools). Statistics about these ministers are bracing:

* In 1997, LEMs, for the first time, outnumbered parish priests (29,146 vs. 27,154), a striking change from five years before (21,569 vs. 30,955).

* Over 70 percent of LEMs are members of the laity (in the ordinary sense of the word, that is, they are not members of religious congregations); 82 percent are women.

* Religious LEMs average thirteen-plus years of Catholic education, while lay LEMs average eight years.

* One percent of religious lack college degrees; 26 percent of lay LEMs lack them.

* LEMs report substantial deficiencies in their knowledge of Scripture, moral theology, justice issues, and family life.

* Eighty percent of religious report a prayer routine, compared to 39 percent of lay LEMs.

* Racial and ethnic minorities compose less than 7 percent of LEMs.

* Over 90 percent of LEMs find their work "satisfying," "respected," "spiritually rewarding," "appreciated," and "life-giving."

Murnion and DeLambo concluded that these new ecclesial ministers are predominantly lay, women, local, and "ministerial" (their work is based on ability rather than office). These qualities, I would add, can lead to tension in a church whose traditional structures have been largely clerical, restricted to men, tied to the universal church, and based on ordination. If the U.S. church is to adjust to the emergence of lay leadership--which has only continued to grow since 1997--much will depend on the formation of lay ministers and teachers. Summer institutes and schools are an obvious starting point.