Philadelphia’s recently-appointed Archbishop Charles Chaput made news last week by announcing plans to sell off his official residence, an unexpected inheritance that came with his position. According to press reports, the manor house of over 13,000 square feet sits on eight acres of land and features a six-car garage.
It is important to note that estates like this one, once inhabited by more than a few bishops (especially in the northeastern United States), date back to the late nineteenth or early twentieth centuries, when bishops were truly “princes of the church,” commanding burgeoning flocks, growing balance sheets, and fearsome political influence, especially in inner-city neighborhoods. And, importantly, these estates were often gifts given to the Church by wealthy lay families, hardly absurd extravagances purchased on the backs of the poor. They were also seen as a way for a still-excluded faith to truly establish itself, to announce its presence, to a society and nation which viewed Catholics as aliens.
Yet, while it’s important to note the passing of this era of American Catholicism, Chaput’s decision is both courageous and correct. The Church’s position today is utterly unlike it was 100, 50, or even 30 years ago. There are the obvious problems of parish and school closings and lawsuit settlements, but the direction of the mission has also changed. For various reasons, including the rise of movements like the New Evangelization and the escalating hostility between church and state, the mission of the Catholic Church in America has become far more evangelical and outsider than it once was. Today, such an elaborate residence is more likely to be a stumbling block than a soap box in the public square.
To support the offloading of some of the Church’s more ostentatious symbols, of course, should by no means lead to demands to, as the writer for the Philadelphia Weekly Press astutely notes, necessarily “go off the deep end” and begin a fire sale of cathedrals, sacramentals, and priceless artwork. Much of that has genuine and enduring value for the Church as a visible expression of the deposit of faith, to say nothing of these items’ cultural and artistic importance. But some things, indeed, should go when times and circumstances change. Chateaux for bishops seem a reasonable candidate for that list.
