Former Bishop Still Reluctant in His Dissent

In 1969, Bishop James Patrick Shannon became the first U.S. Roman Catholic bishop ever to resign from his office over a matter of conscience. That matter was the papal encyclical “Humanae Vitae,” issued by Pope Paul VI in 1968. In it, the pope reaffirmed the rigid doctrinal prohibition against contraception even in marriage, and though the decree was not issued under the seal of papal infallibility, it was nonetheless binding on all priests and bishops.

Unable to endorse the pope’s doctrine and unwilling to tell his parishioners that if they used contraception, they were committing a grave sin, Shannon found himself in a hopelessly compromised position and resigned.

For a brief period in the 1960s, Shannon was at the center of the vast changes that swept through the Catholic Church. As a bishop, he was a voting member of Vatican II, the ecumenical council convened by Pope John XXIII in 1962. The purpose of the council, said Pope John, was “to renew the life of Christian people and to adjust the norm of ecclesiastical law to the needs and thoughts of our time.” To that end, more than 2000 bishops assembled in the Vatican over a period of four years to discuss every aspect of canonical law and practice. Shannon was present for the fourth session, and his views placed him on the more radical end of the ecclesiastical spectrum.

Yet, in demeanor and tone, Shannon was anything but radical. He was and is humble, self-effacing and deeply loyal to the church. Even writing 30 years after what must have been troubling times for him, he remains deferential and respectful of cardinals and bishops who did not extend him the same courtesy. That essential goodness may have accounted for his success as a prelate, but it is a frustrating quality in an autobiographer. His story reads like a primer for a proper Christian life. Not too much ambition, nothing negative to say even about men who wished him ill, kind words for the many people who touched him through the years. In short, a good man, but not a good writer. A compelling life, but not a compelling book.

Shannon was drawn to the priesthood in the belief that “the Almighty God had given [him] an abundance of blessings, that most of these had come to [him] through the Catholic Church and a Catholic family.” He dutifully describes his years at the seminary in Minnesota, his days as a priest in St. Paul, his time as a graduate student at Yale, his decade as a professor and then president of the College of St. Thomas, and his appointment as an auxiliary bishop for Minneapolis-St. Paul.

His narrative then plunges into his tumultuous four years as a bishop, his confrontation with the ultraconservative and truculent Cardinal James McIntyre of Los Angeles, his tenure as press spokesman for the national bishops conference, and his increasing dismay at the inflexibility of the bishops in the wake of Vatican II. He concludes with several chapters on his life after 1969, as a lawyer, a husband, and an administrator for philanthropic organizations in Minnesota.

Woven through the narrative are hints of the drama that surrounded Shannon, but unless you know the larger context, these hints aren’t sufficient to bring to the fore just how consequential his story actually is. Shannon was caught amid forces larger than himself. For the Catholic Church, the 1960s were a time of profound unease. Between the shifting role of women worldwide and the population explosion in the Third World, the church was facing its most severe demographic and theological challenges in centuries.

After he was rebuked by McIntyre, Shannon was written about in most major newspapers and became a lightning rod for the controversy over birth control. He chose to leave the church rather than challenge the papacy, and he purposely withdrew from public life out of concern that he would further divide the American Catholic community.

If anything, the church has become even more opposed to contraception. Its inability to embrace even the deferential dissent of Shannon led to the rapid decline in seminary enrollments and to a dearth of new priests. Had Shannon delved into this larger story, his biography would have been that much more illuminating. As it is, his story calls to mind Shakespeare’s Malvolio, who wryly observed that some men are born great, others achieve greatness and others have greatness thrust upon them. For a moment, James Patrick Shannon had greatness thrust upon him. He may not have been able to seize the opportunity, but then again, he lived more in those years than most of us live in a lifetime.