In his important talk on polarization in the Church at the Los Angeles Religious Education Congress in April, Father Timothy Radcliffe, former Master General of the Dominican order, implied that there are only two activist constituencies in the Church: hard-line conservatives and moderate liberals, but without using those labels. He calls them Communion Catholics and Kingdom Catholics.

I should suggest, to the contrary, that there are four such constituencies in the Church, not two. In addition to ultra-conservatives (who have never accepted the ecclesiology of Vatican II, especially as it applies to the liturgy) and moderate liberals, there are also moderate conservatives (who basically accept the conciliar ecclesiology but favor a more cautious approach to ongoing renewal and reform than their moderate counterparts on the left) and ultra-liberals, or radicals (for whom words like "hierarchy" carry no practical meaning).

For middle-of-the-road Catholics (both moderate liberals and moderate conservatives), Father Radcliffe's division between Kingdom and Communion Catholics is not a matter of either/or, but of both/and. Moderates believe that the Church needs to be concerned with both outreach and identity, creativity and tradition.

Centrist Catholics do not view their moderate counterparts on the left or the right as an "ultimate threat" (Father Radcliffe's words) to their own place in the Church. Only Catholics of the far right view fellow Catholics that way --- in this case, moderately liberal Catholics and probably some moderate conservatives as well.

To be sure, many moderate liberals are appalled by the self-righteousness of ultra-conservative Catholics and by their harshly judgmental attitudes toward many centrist Catholics, but centrists have no desire to drive ultra-conservatives out of the Church or to deny them their right to speak. On the other hand, moderates would like the ultra-conservatives to reciprocate in kind by cooling their own passion to judge and to punish.

Father Radcliffe speaks and writes about demoralization in the Church with much heart-felt concern, but he does not seem to acknowledge that demoralization has been experienced primarily by moderate liberals, and especially by those old enough to have been formed in the pre-Vatican II Church and to have invested heavily in Vatican II's renewal and reforms.

Father Andrew Greeley, a distinguished author and sociologist, has frequently pointed out that it was not the Council but Pope Paul VI's 1968 birth-control encyclical, Humanae Vitae, that opened the breach within the post-conciliar Church. If the pope had sided with the 2-1 majority of his Birth Control Commission and modified the official teaching on contraception, the post-Vatican II history of the Church might look entirely different.

And if his successor, John Paul I, had not died after only 33 days in office, the Church's hierarchy around the world might look entirely different as well.

History teaches us that, while persons in power are often victims of events, persons in power also shape events. Would the United States be involved today in the war in Iraq if Vice President Gore rather than George W. Bush had won the 2000 presidential election?

Catholics of the far right, and bishops who share and enforce their ecclesiology, insist that obedience is one of Catholicism's primary virtues and that the teaching of the hierarchy, and especially the pope's, is the only sure guide to saving truth.

And yet the new bishop of Kansas City-St. Joseph, Robert Finn, a member of Opus Dei, has been dismantling much of what had been put in place by his three immediate predecessors: Charles Helmsing (1962-77), John Sullivan (1977-93), and Raymond Boland (1993-2005).

Priests, nuns and lay people who have served in various diocesan offices and agencies established and supported by these three bishops have, in a matter of months, been fired or resigned, and programs have been closed down or suffered cuts in budget and staff (National Catholic Reporter, May 12).

Were Bishops Helmsing, Sullivan and Boland unworthy shepherds, like the hired hands mentioned in the Fourth Gospel (John 10: 12-13)? Did they lead their flocks astray or throw them to the wolves? Were they grievously wrong in their pastoral teachings, policies and appointments? If so, how is a Catholic to know when any bishop is to be respected and obeyed, and when he is not?

And what advice would Timothy Radcliffe give to the demoralized centrist Catholics of the Kansas City-St. Joseph Diocese? Should they have a "conversation" with Bishop Finn?

According to the NCR, nine diocesan priests did just that, over dinner. They were men of good will seeking common ground with their new bishop. Instead, he effectively turned a deaf ear to them, went home first, and left them in a confused and demoralized state.

Did the Last Supper turn out that way?

Father Richard P. McBrien is the Crowley-O'Brien Professor of Theology at the University of Notre Dame.