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MOVIE
REVIEWS

On the Waterfront
by Ruth Hayes-Barba

I am here . . . I am a priest,
A Christian, saved by the blood of Christ, Ready to suffer with my blood.
This is the sign of the Church always, The sign of blood. Blood for blood.
His blood given to buy my life, My blood given to pay for His death.
My death for his death

(T.S. Eliot, Murder in the Cathedral)

A common issue in our Church has been the trend toward a clericalization of the laity and the laicization of the clergy in the wake of Vatican II. Pope John Paul has also expressed concerns about a too-indiscriminate use of the word “ministry,” the confusion and the equating of the common priesthood and the ministerial priesthood, the lack of observance of ecclesiastical laws and norms, the arbitrary interpretation of the concept of “supply,” the tendency toward a “Clericalization” of the lay fruitful and the risk of creating, in reality, an ecclesial structure of parallel services to that founded on the Sacrament of Orders (CL 23).

The exercise of ministerial tasks does not make pastors of the lay faithful. Rather it is the Sacrament of Orders which gives the ordained minister a particular participation in the office of Christ, the Shepherd and Head, and in his Eternal Priesthood (CL 23). Conversely, while it is true that those in holy orders can at times be engaged in secular activities, and even have a secular profession, they are expressly and professedly ordained to the sacred ministry (LG 31). The ministries receive the charism of the Holy Spirit from the Risen Christ, in uninterrupted succession from the apostles, through the Sacrament of Orders: from him they receive the authority and sacred power to serve the Church, acting in persona Christi Capitis (in the person of Christ, the Head) and to gather her in the Holy Spirit through the Gospel and the Sacraments (CL 22). Thus the Church, consonant with the tradition, continues to assert that the Sacrament of Orders express and realize a participation in the priesthood of Christ that is different, not simply in degree, but in essence (LG 10).

“The confusion and the equating of the common priesthood and the ministerial priesthood” (CL 23) is at the heart of the contemporary situation. There has often not been a clear understanding of the distinction between the common priesthood derived from Baptism and the ministerial priesthood derived from Orders. The confusion continues to challenge an authentic appropriation of the Mystery of Priesthood within our Church. Popular portrayals have reinforced the image of priest as “one of the guys” while political correctness has demanded that he also be “one of the girls” in clamoring for the ordination of women. One need not look far to cite countless examples of a priesthood that has been bilked of its essential character and meaning. It is not uncommon to see a choice for social action over sacraments, relevance over mystery. Prayer is out, politics are in. The recent series Nothing Sacred and the heated debate around it illustrate a very different understanding of a priesthood in our time.

In marked contrast stand great film and great literature. One such film is On the Waterfront (1954) which last year was identified by the American Film Industry as one of the legendary works in the history of filmmaking. It ranked eighth in the One Hundred Movies Winner of the century. On the Waterfront is the story of racketeering on the New York harbor, of the longshoremen’s union having been taken over by the mob, where good people have been silenced by violence and fear. One of its central characters is the parish priest. Almost instinctively, this film illustrates the threefold mission of the priest: “consecrated to preach the gospel, shepherd the faithful, and celebrate divine worship as true priest of the New Testament” (LG 28). The action of the film revolves in great part around strong sacramental presence, clear leadership, and powerful preaching shown by Father Barry (played by Karl Malden).

The film opens with the main character, Terry Malloy (played by Marlon Brando) unwittingly luring an informer on the mob to his death. The man has been pushed off a roof. Father Barry, wearing clerics and stole, is praying over the victim, Joey Doyle. The man’s sister, Edie (played by Eva Marie Saint), is sobbing over her brother. Father Barry exhorts her to “time and faith” and says “I’m in the church if you need me.” She screams at him “Did you ever hear of a saint hiding in a church? I want to know who killed my brother.” The next time we see these two is on the waterfront; Edie says:

    I guess I spoke out of turn last night.

    Father Barry: You think I’m a gravy train rider with a turned around collar? (no response) The Sisters taught you not to lie. I’ve been thinking about your question and you’re right. This is my parish. I don’t know how much I can do but I’ll never find out unless I come down here and take a good look for myself.

While Father Barry extends the parameters of his parish to the waterfront, he is nonetheless present there distinctively as a priest. We see a strong masculine presence in clerical garb who is not intimidated by evil. In fact, he is criticized for not shielding Edie from the brutal reality of life on the docks: “I’m surprised at you, Father, if you don’t mind my saying so letting her see things ain’t fit for the eye of a decent girl.” Father Barry is driven by a passion for the truth and on the waterfront he is trying to find out who killed Joey Doyle.
    Worker: The waterfront is tougher, like it ain’t part of America. You know how a trigger local works Father?

    Father Barry: No, how?

    Worker: You get up in a meeting, you make a motion, the lights go out, then you go out . . . Name one place where it’s safe to even talk without being clobbered?

    Father Barry: The church. The bottom of the church.

    Worker: Do you know what you’re letting yourself in for?

One of the most essential roles of the priest is to educate in truth. He must be ready to incur people’s displeasure in speaking the truth and his lived witness to truth should strengthen others to pursue the truth. The meeting convenes in the church basement that night.
    Father Barry: Well, I thought there would be more of you here but the Romans found out what a handful could do, if it’s the right handful...Not one of you has a line on who killed Joey Doyle? I have a hunch all of you could tell us something about it. (silence) All right, then answer this one. How can we call ourselves Christians and protect these murderers with our silence? Listen, you know who the pistols are. Are you going to keep still until they cut you down one by one, are you? Hey, Duggan, how about you, are you?

    Duggan: One thing you’ve got to understand Father. On the dock we’re always D & D. What’s that? Deaf and dumb. No matter how much we hate the torpedoes, we don’t rat.

    Father Barry: Rat? Now boys, get smart. I know you’re getting pushed around but there’s one thing we’ve got in this country and that’s ways of fighting back. Now getting the facts to the public, testifying for what you know is right against what you know is wrong and what’s “ratting” for them is telling the truth for you, now can’t you see that? Can’t you see that?

Church windows are shattered and people are attacked as they try to leave. A fellow priest says to Father Barry “What did I tell you about sticking your neck out, this is a police problem, not ours. His response, “People need our help.” “He (the priest) must be ready before all else to stand by people in their tribulations-both ins physical sufferings and in the disappointments, adversities and worries of which no one is spared” (Ratzinger 5). Father Barry rescues Duggan as he’s being beaten by three men with baseball clubs:
    Father Barry: Are you all right?

    Duggan: Yea, considering they were using my head for a baseball.

    FB: As you still D & D, do you still call it ratting?

    D: Are you on the level?

    FB: What do you think?

    D: If I stick my neck out and they chop it will that be the end of it or are you willing to go all the way?

    FB: Down on the line.

    D: They’ll put the muscle on you, turned around collar or no turned around collar.

    FB: Wipe your face, listen to me. You stand up and I’ll stand up with you.

    D: Right down the wire?

    FB: So help me God.

Duggan follows through and reports what he knows to the waterfront crime commission. The mob boss arranges for his assassination by way of a loading accident where he is crushed under a load in the hole of a ship. Father Barry scrambles down into the hole, puts on his stole and begins the prayers for the dying. He then stands up and addresses the workers with powerful preaching:
    I came down here to keep a promise, I gave Duggan my word that if he stood up to the mob, I’d stand with him—all the way and now Duggan is dead . . . Some people think the crucifixion only took place on Calvary, they’d better wise up. Taking Joey Doyle’s life to stop him from testifying is a crucifixion. And dropping a sling on Duggan because he was ready to spill his guts tomorrow—that’s a crucifixion. And every time the mob puts the pressure on a good man and tries to keep him from doing his duty as a citizen—it’s a crucifixion. And anybody who sits around and lets it happen, keeps silent about something he knows has happened shares the guilt of it just as much as the Roman soldier who pierced the flesh of our Lord to see if he lived.

    Men: Go back to your church, Father. (As he’s pelted by debris and garbage).

    Boys, that is my church. And if you don’t think Christ is down here on the waterfront you’ve got another guess coming. Every morning when the hiring boss blows his whistle Jesus stands along side you in the shape up. He sees why some of you get picked and some of you get passed over . . . And how does he who spoke up without fear against every evil feel about your silence?. . . Every fellow down here is your brother in Christ. But remember Christ is always with you. Christ is in the shape up, he’s in the hatch, in the hole, he’s kneeling right here beside Duggan and he’s staying with all of you. If you do it to the least of mine you did it to me and what that did to Joey they’ll do to you and you—all of you. And only you, you with God’s help, have the power to knock them out for good.

Father Barry does not organize a dock strike or picket city hall. He does not call for the redistribution of wealth or revolutionary praxis. He does not testify himself or enter the civil arena. Father Barry never substitutes political reform for moral conversion. He never stresses “rights” but only doing the right thing, for acting rightly constitutes virtue and moral living exercised for the common good. He does not advocate violence other than that demanded by changing one’s own heart, violence to pride and fear. He never touches a weapon. Father Barry fully embodies a sacramental view of reality—that human beings are truly capable of bearing truth and grace. He is a son of the Church, the “expert in humanity” (SRS 7). He knows that in the end there is only one thing that counts—that each person be a saint (Greene 210). He calls decent men to the truth of their own nature and the opportunity of their own secular vocation. They must be the ones who “seek the kingdom of God by engaging in temporal affairs and ordering them according to the plan of God” (LG31) for the world is the place where they properly fulfill their vocations (CL 15). They must actively insert themselves deep into the very reality of the temporal order and take their part completely in the work of the world (AA 29).
    Laymen are to take on themselves as their distinctive task this renewal of the temporal order. Guided by the light of the Gospel and the mind of the Church, prompted by Christian love, they should act in this domain in a direct way and in their own specific manner. As citizens among citizens they must bring to their cooperation with others their own special competence, and act on their own responsibility; everywhere and always they have to seek the justice of the kingdom of God. The temporal order is to be renewed in such a way that, while its own principles are fully respected, it is harmonized with the principles of the Christian life (AA 7).
The “trades and professions possess a value of their own, placed in them by God” (AA 7). And it is here, in these professions and places, that Jesus stands beside them.

According to Vatican II “man has been made to participate in divine law, with the result that, under the gentle disposition of divine providence, he can come to perceive ever increasingly the unchanging truth . . . on his part man perceives and acknowledges the imperatives of the divine law through the mediation of conscience” (DH3). Man lives as both a believer and citizen of the world but with only a single conscience, a Christian conscience which must continually guide both domains (AA 5).

    Father Barry: Give it to me straight—there’s nothing that I haven’t heard. (Terry relates his unwitting participation in Joey Doyle’s death).

    FB: What are you going to do about it?

    Terry: It’s like carrying a monkey on your back.

    FB: It’s still a question of who rides who.

    Terry: If I spill, my life ain’t worth a nickel.

    FB: And how much is your soul worth if you don’t?

    Terry: You’re asking me to put the finger on my own brother.

    FB:(Sarcastically) So you’ve got a brother, eh? Well, let me tell you you’ve got some other brothers and they’re getting the short end . . . I’m not asking you to do anything, it’s your own conscience that’s got to do the asking.

    T: Conscience, conscience—that stuff can drive you nuts.

    FB: Good luck!

What matters to Father Barry is that he be of use in saving a soul (Greene 129). He calls this young man not to sincerity and good intentions but to courage and fidelity to the truth. “Man has in his heart a law written by God. His dignity lies in observing this law and by it he will be judged” (GS 16).

We never see Father Barry in vestments, or in a church proper, or in personal prayer. Yet the viewer intuitively knows that these are the backbone off his life by the nature and quality of his presence on the docks. One never doubts that he values spiritual efficacy over human efficacy. His priestly stole is always in his pocket, the sacral sphere is his proper domain (LG 10) and he is fundamentally ordered to the service of the entire people of God (CL 22). He is the ministry of the World, the ministry of worship, the ministry of the shepherd (OT 4). We never see him in self-absorption or private angst, although we know his capacity for self-reflection by his response when challenged by Edie about hiding in the church. He is a man for others; he loves Jesus and His Mystical Body of Christ, whose members we are. He is priest radically configured to Christ by permanent seal in order that Christ may act in him as His instrument.

    Jesus Christ is himself the primary proclaimer, distributor of the sacraments, celebrant of the liturgy, shepherd and gatherer of the community...the priest is drawn so completely into service that it stamps him in his very nature and takes him up into the service of Christ in his whole person. The sacramental character signifies that the priest’s commission from Jesus Christ and the promise that is entrusted to him along with it stamp the priest in his very nature (Malone 67).
Father Barry is a man’s man (though never one of the guys) and a priest’s priest. There is nothing wimpy, or soft, or sentimental in his dealings. The version of the film I rented had as its subtitle “Going My Way with Brass Knuckles.” This is no “lightweight, ‘nice-guy’ type of clergyman played by Crosby” (Marks 17). He is clear, direct, tough and courageous. He is brusque when he feels he’s being used and severe when people aren’t being straight with him. He is also good with women. He takes a woman’s challenge and rebuke in the opening scene and grows from it. He facilitates the growth of the love relationship between her and Terry by his honesty and challenge. He might flunk sensitivity training by today’s standards, but he is warm and real and absolutely trustworthy. He is pastoral and compassionate in the most authentic sense. When Terry is bent on revenge after his brother’s murder, Father Barry tracks him down in the bar where he finds him holding some mob members at gunpoint:
    Terry: What do you want?

    Father Barry: Your gun.

    T: Go chase yourself.

    FB: Give me the gun.

    T: Go to hell (Father Barry punches him in the face and knocks him off his feet, the gun drops).

    FB: You want to be brave, you want to be a brave man by firing lead into another man’s flesh? Firing lead into another man’s flesh isn’t being brave. You want to hurt Johnny Friendly, you hurt him, you want to fix him, you really want to finish him for what he did to Charlie and a dozen other men who are better than Charlie.

    Then don’t fight them like a hoodlum down in the jungle. That’s just what he wants. He’ll hit you in the head and plead self-defense. You’ll fight him in the courtroom tomorrow with the truth. Now get rid of that gun unless you haven’t got the guts and then if you haven’t you’d better hold on to it.

The closing scene shows a bludgeoned Terry nearly unconscious from a savage mob beating. He can barely move, let alone stand. Father Barry exhorts him, dares him, to finish what he’s started. They get him up on his feet, but the priest will allow no one to help him. He forces Terry to do it under his own power. The priest’s final words in the film are “leave him alone” and again “leave him alone” as various dock workers try to help him walk. He staggers with difficulty, but without assistance, down the walkway into the hold, and the workers follow. A troubled “bum” has become a man, bonded in the truth and now capable of leading others in the truth. The final scene shows Father Barry with his arm around Edie and a faint smile on his face watching them go.

I am here . . . I am priest . . . This is the sign of the Church always.

Note:

This article examines the theological significance of a film made prior to Vatican II but analyzed in light of the theology of priesthood from the documents of the Second Vatican Council. The reader is referred to “God on the Waterfront,” American Catholic Studies Newsletter, Vol. 26 #1 Spring 19999 by John Haas for an excellent treatment of the historical situation and political context in which the film was produced.
Works Cited:

Council Documents of Vatican II:
AA (Apostolicam Actuositatem)
DH(Dignitatis Humanae)
GS(Gaudium et Spes)
LG (Lumen Gentium)
OT (Optatium Totius)

Encyclicals and Apostolic Exhortations:

CL (Christifideles Laici)
SRS (Sollicitudo Rei Socialis)
Eliot, T.S. Murder in the Cathedral. T.S. Eliot, The Complete Poems and Plays. (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc. 1971), p.213.

Greene, Graham. The Power and the Glory. (New York: Penguin Books, 1972). Copyright 1940.

Marks, Frederick. “Hollywood’s Touch of Evil,” Homiletic & Pastoral Review, Vol. XXCIX, #9 (June 1999).

Malone, Richard. “A Response to the Priest in the Service of Life in Christ by Georges Chantraine," The Catholic Priest as Moral Teacher and Guide (A Symposium). (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1990).

Ratzinger, Joseph. “Perspectives on Priestly Formation Today,” The Catholic Priest as Moral Teacher and Guide (A Symposium). (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1990).

Ruth Hayes-Barba holds a Master of Social Work from Wayne State University and is a Candidate for Master of Theological Studies from the University of Dallas (completion May 2000). A Licensed Clinical Social Worker in the State of Oregon, Ruth works for the Archdiocese of Portland.

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