Later life can be a time of liberation. If I ever doubted this, I would be convinced immediately by the example of my old friend, Father Michael Gillgannon, who recently wrote an open letter critical of his bishop.

For a priest of the Catholic Church to take on his bishop takes guts. Most members of the diocesan clergy would sooner dive into a snake pit than challenge their appointed (and anointed) leader.

At ordination, new priests promise to obey their bishop and reverence him. Besides, their bishop has the power to transfer them at will, no matter how much the priest dislikes the assignment.

The price for such an encounter will keep the average Catholic priest silent even when he disapproves of the bishop’s public stands on policy.

But Michael Gillgannon, a priest of the Kansas City-St. Joseph Diocese, recently broke with custom, openly criticizing his bishop, Robert W. Finn.

Besides his courage, it helps that Father Gillgannon can claim three other pluses: 1) He is 76 years of age. 2) He recently underwent heart surgery. 3) He does ministry in a wretchedly poor area of South America ─ La Paz, Bolivia. That’s what I call credibility.

Mike and I became acquainted long ago when he spent parts of the summers of 1967–1969 in the Boston area, sharpening his skills as a college chaplain. During this time, I came to admire his leadership qualities and his gifts of personality.  I only regret that it has taken some 40 years for us to resume contact.

In his letter to the bishop, my priest friend focuses on issues that I consider of pressing importance for both the church and the nation. By reason of his insight and pastoral experience, he speaks with special authority, perhaps not to his bishop but to me and many others.

For this column I emailed my old friend in La Paz. In response to my questions, he tells me that Bishop Finn has not made any substantive answer to his letter.

As to responses from other people, 90 percent have been favorable and supportive. “I think we hit a nerve,” says Father Gillgannon, “which was the purpose of my letter.”

Gillgannon’s critique covers more material than this column can detail. But here are some highlights:

1) In his administrative decisions, Bishop Finn has suppressed diversity in favor of a “narrow orthodoxy.” The priest regrets this approach as restrictive of the spirituality that marks the church at its best. .

That narrowness manifests itself in the replacement of a lay formation center, widely hailed as a model, with an institution that is a hotbed of opposition to the reforms of the Second Vatican Council.

2) In a larger sphere, Bishop Finn has allied himself with the minority of American bishops for whom the proposed health care reform should be rejected because it places government in charge. Father Gillgannon’s sharp retort is: “Your document seems to say the poor must fend for themselves and take better care of themselves.”

3) In last fall’s presidential election this same bishop and his episcopal allies focused on abortion to the neglect of other pro-life areas such as war and peace. My friend challenges those bishops: “How pro-life have you been on Iraq and Afghanistan?” And he asks further: “Have you formed Catholic consciences on war and armaments and national defense budgets?”

4) Gillgannon expresses strong that regret these bishops have turned their backs on the teaching of Vatican II that loomed large in his seminary studies.

For me, the Second Vatican Council proved an inspiring guide toward reform of the church. It also steered Catholics toward a more creative relationship with the world. That is why the current campaign to reverse its leadership pains me.

My friend bluntly accuses his bishop: “You seem to most of us as pushing your own political agenda and not the wisdom of Catholic teaching.”

Close to the letter’s end, Gillgannon issues a plea for a different approach. He regards Catholic leaders and the laity as more divided now than ever before in his lifetime. And he sees Americans in general damaged by the harsh tone of public discussion.

“So let us continue to dialogue,” he urges, “and reason together from our common values and principles, looking for the best social and pastoral problems of our country and our church.”

Bishop Finn seems unmoved by this letter and the passion behind it. For me, however, it speaks eloquently to the problems that confront people of my spiritual tradition, as well as many other members of American society.

I continually feel distress at the effort to constrict the wide social concern of my tradition and instead to narrow it to only one issue. For me, abortion remains a prime concern but I cannot ignore the problems facing us. I want the full force of my spiritual tradition to be brought to the whole range of issues that face us.