faced was how to enlist others and overcome the anxieties of clerical professionals, born and bred into thinking that the Church was hierarchical, from God to pope to bishop to clergy to laity. “Pay, pray, and obey” was the mantra that governed the laity. The last two elements of the mantra were for the lower clergy. For many bishops, any challenge to this was still tantamount to heresy. Pope Pius X had forbidden priests to meet together except with the bishop’s permission. That admonition still held disciples. Where could we meet to introduce our plan to other priests, knowing that someone would immediately report back to the chancery? The church where I was stationed had a large hall. I volunteered to arrange with my pastor for its use. He thought the idea of gathering priests was a great idea until the next day when he began to receive phone calls from the bishop and others. By then the genie was out of the bottle. The Association of Pittsburgh Priests exists today and includes lay men and women as members, “who act on their baptismal call to be priests and prophets.” It advocates for social justice and church renewal, including married clergy and women priests. No priests ordained after 1970, however, are currently members.
Bishops of Pittsburgh During the years surrounding the council I had interactions with two Pittsburgh bishops, both of whom eventually became cardinals. John Dearden (bishop, 1950–58)—dignified, taciturn, cold, and aloof—led the Pittsburgh Diocese when I was sent to Rome. His well-known nickname, “Iron John,” was a fit description for him as well as the industrial city where he served as bishop. When Dearden was reassigned to become bishop of Detroit, he was replaced by John Wright (bishop, 1959–69), a man who had a reputation as a scholar and liberal thinker. I was delighted with the change, and, when he met with us in Rome soon after his appointment, he confirmed that assessment. One of the ironies of the time was that Dearden returned from Rome after Vatican II to Detroit as a changed man.
He had grown to appreciate the collegial spirit he experienced in the council, and he worked to implement that style in his diocese. Later, when he tried to extend that spirit across the U.S. as president of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, he had less success. Wright, however, turned the other way. He was no longer the progressive man he once had seemed to be. He delayed implementing many of the council reforms for as long and as much as possible. It was to this type of intransigence that many of us were reacting. Perhaps he sensed that the winds of power at the top had shifted. Following the council, he returned to Rome to head one of the important curial posts in the Vatican: Prefect for the Sacred Congregation of the Clergy. There was little hope that reforms suggested by the Council for the clergy would ever be
implemented. Wright’s replacement, Vincent Leonard (bishop, 1969–83), had no compunction about failing to implement council reforms. A long-delayed and carefully choreographed diocesan synod planned by Wright was finally opened under his successor. Leonard let it be known that he did not intend to implement any changes, even as he promulgated the pre-arranged synod in a dramatic ceremony staged in Saint Paul’s Cathedral. There would be no commissions to implement any reforms or write any new legislation. One historian wrote that “Bishop Leonard’s determination to downplay the synod effectively stifled the opportunity for significant structural reforms in the diocese for the next three decades, and may have cost the diocese its opportunity to regenerate the Church in Pittsburgh.”