The Prodigal Priest

A Catholic friend messaged me the other day with questions that led to a reflection worthy of a post. She had taken advantage of a lull in her work as a library clerk assisting students with their research to, thinking of me, do her own research on married priests. She asked:

1. Having never renounced my vows, do I still get to be a priest?
2. Do I still celebrate mass?
3. Do I celebrate private weddings for couples?
4. Is my role at the prison that of a priest?

My friend observed that she thought it would be horrible if I weren't able to do the work that I was ordained to do and she hoped I could still do the "official" stuff.

People blog for different reasons, many for friendship or to become part of a broader social circle. I blog primarily to converse with myself in the hope of reconnecting with my purpose and honoring my destiny. It is also my hope and prayer that as I reflect upon my own journey, those who read this story, in some mysterious way, come closer to understanding their own. Now I've noticed that most blogs, even some very good ones with worthwhile content, go relatively unnoticed. Comments are important to me not because I lust to ascend to a blogger featured page, but because I sincerely appreciate feedback and enjoy reading how my story has connected with yours. This exchange with readers helps me to put the pieces of life's puzzle back together again.

Although there are some dissimilarities, lately I have come to see myself and my story in light of Jesus' parables of the lost in Luke 15. Out of curiousity I ran a search of my own for "prodigal priest" to see if there was anyone else out there on the internet wrestling with the same issues and circumstances. I discovered only one, an episcopal priest deposed for an undisclosed sexual impropriety. But I am not a "deposed" priest. I never abused anyone. My sin was to let aching human loneliness draw me away from the love of the Lord and a ministry I cherished. That line about not knowing what you've got until it's gone - it's true!

I was ordained a diocesan Roman Catholic priest in 1982. I had the privilege of serving four communities in southwestern Michigan as parochial vicar and pastor. In 1989 I was given a difficult assignment which I will reflect upon at another time in another post. For the purpose of this reflection, suffice it to say I gave of myself selflessly and completely until I didn't have anything left inside to give any more. When the evil and ill will of a determined faction bent on waging a holy war to dictate the course of a parish set their sights on good and decent people who had accepted my invitation and encouragement to serve their community in ministry, when in one particular instance a parishioner became so distraught over the situation she sought to take her own life by an overdose of pills, I discovered my limits and experienced burn out that led to my own hospitalization. The extreme loneliness that had been my companion gave a face to the utter emptiness and brokeness I felt at this critical time in my life.

I felt betrayed by the Church I had served and abandoned by a bishop of whom brother priests had spoken often was at his best when showing support of priests in their time of need. In hindsight I remind myself that it was at this time the bishop himself was in the midst of bouncing back from being seriously ill from an unknown malady from a trip overseas. Nevertheless I had given of myself without reservation to everyone I had been called to serve in their need but found no one at my side in my own. Broken and vulnerable, in the midst of my loneliness, despair and isolation, a woman befriended me. I had never known what it was like to have someone seemingly love me more than I loved myself. I didn't feel hurt or empty or lonely any more. That friendship grew as I convalesced and a year later, after much soul searching and prayer, I informally "left" the priesthood to get married.

One of two things happens when a priest gets married. Some priests will seek out laicization. It is important to keep in mind that the Church believes Ordination (Holy Orders), like all the sacraments, imparts an indelible character that forever changes a person. Like the process of annulment in the Church, laicization is a way around this understanding of sacramental grace and indelible character by proving that the sacrament, be it marriage or ordination, never occurred in the first place because of impediments that prevented the imparting of grace. But I, like so many priests who have left active ministry to get married, have never renounced my vows and am not interested in laicization. Once a priest, always a priest. As the ritual itself announces, "You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek ( Hebrews 5:6 )."

And so for priests like me, we continue to love the Lord Jesus, love the Church and are fully committed to lives of service ministering to the broken, the weary and the hungry. At the end of the game show The Weakest Link many years ago, host Ann Robinson, after telling the winner what he or she had just won, would next turn to the loser and announce "And you... just go away." And so it is with married priests. We're still priests... we just "go away"... we disappear. We're no longer acknowledged, cast into exile because we fell in love.

Although there is much more I could reflect upon and share on the topic, it's time to draw this reflection to a close and answer my friend's questions. Ordination was a defining moment for me and not just a chapter from a bygone era in my life. Yes, I am still (and always will be) a priest, albeit officially an inactive one. Despite our desire to the contrary to serve, we are no longer invited by the Church to formally exercise ministry although I, like most, still celebrate mass. I have performed weddings and funerals when asked. My work at the prison is not that of priest although my being a priest can never be separated from anything I do. In the course of interviewing prisoners, many have paused to express their appreciation that I dealt with them in a compassionate and non-judgmental way. My faith and my calling permits me no less.

Finally, my friend later asks, "You were talking about "true love." You had said that you had everything that you wanted with Christ, and yet you were still looking for that one special love. Do you regret your decision to marry?"

Though lonely, I never looked for that someone special. When you are a priest there are lonely women who inevitably come your way to tempt your commitment and play on your vulnerability. I've reflected on this before as another kind of sexual abuse that has never been explored by the Church. Some may wonder why, if Christ is a priest's "enough", would he ever be lonely anyway? Bear in mind in Jesus rests the fullness of God and the fullness of our humanity. Jesus enjoyed an intimacy with God we can only hope may be ours some day in another life. Jesus could have come to earth and lived a cloistered life altogether and fulfilled his mission. Yet he sought out the close friends we call the Twelve. Was it human loneliness of sorts that led him to ask them to follow him into the garden and remain at his side ( see Mark:14 32-34 )?

Do I regret my decision to get married? Honestly? Yes and no... No because I have been gifted with raising two beautiful kids - an adopted son who needed a father's love and a biological daughter... Yes, because the pain and emptiness I feel inside about not being able to actively pastor in the Church is far greater than the pain of either my past loneliness or brokenness... And if you sense that I am torn apart on the inside...

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

You Don't Have To Wait Much Longer

God works in strange and mysterious ways. I came face-to-face with this truth when I interviewed a prisoner a couple of days ago.

You wouldn't want to encounter the likes of inmate "M" on the streets. His body is marked with "13" and "XIII", branding him as a Sureno and he sports a teardrop under his left eye. Influenced by an uncle, his gang affiliation began in San Antonio, Texas, at age 11. His family moved to southwest Detroit where the Surenos and Latin Counts are bloody rivals seeking respect by waging war in the streets. In the past month alone I have seen over a dozen members of these gangs from this area committed to the state prison for violent, gang-motivated crimes including homicide.

On one level I can understand the bitter rivalry. As we approach the back stretch of the midterm elections, I'm reminded how politically polarized we've become. For the time being the electorate seems content to wage its war in the voting booth, but if candidates don't emerge who can speak a unifying language that can bridge our perceived differences and lead us to stand on common ground, red state-blue state and liberal-conservative could become the Hatfields-McCoys. It has been refreshing to see Illinois senator Barack Obama on the cover of Time magazine and speaking on Oprah and Larry King this past week. He is the one politician to come around in a long time who steps away from the polarizing rhetoric and presents issues in an inclusive way.

I guess in the end what is taking place in southwest Detroit, the streets of Bagdad and in the political ads playing on television is a mirror in which we can see our own reflection. Does it make us uncomfortable? When you talk to him, "M" realizes gang culture hasn't been worth the cost. He and his wife lost a 3 month old daughter in the bullet spray of a drive-by shooting into their home a couple of years ago.

"M" is Catholic and my having been ordained a Catholic priest in 1982 lent a spiritual tone to the interview. He related how, despite being happily married and in love with his wife and newborn son, he feels restless inside and had begun to turn to alcohol to escape his pain. There are many ways we go about anesthetizing that restlessness. Until being prescribed Byetta three and a half weeks ago, my personal drug of convenience if not choice or utility was food.

At the end of the interview, after "M" had journeyed down some difficult personal paths with me and shed a few tears, he paused. He looked me in the eye and said, very sincerely, "The Holy Spirit told me to tell you this. You won't have to wait much longer."

Yes, God does work in strange and mysterious ways. Could he have chosen "M" to deliver a message intended for me? Why would he choose a gang member and a convict as his emissary? The funny thing is, the message does speak to me in a number of ways and despite the lips from which it was delivered, I welcomed and needed to hear that message.

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Where I'm Supposed To Be

From time to time I catch myself in a funk, questioning whether my life has any meaning or purpose. I feel an aching dissatisfaction, that there is so much more inside of me that neither my life nor my circumstances allow me to celebrate, express or give. One of the principles Dr. Wayne Dyer espouses for happiness and peace is to avoid dying with your music still in you. Within each and every one of us is a unique song that only you can sing by the life you lead. But sometimes life doesn't seem to be interested in me singing my song.

When I'm facing the blues I have to remind myself of all those times looking back when it felt like someone somewhere was watching out for me, when luck or fate was actually on my side and I was spared from having to go down very dark or difficult roads. Recalling those occasions renews an appreciation that God does have something special in store for me, even though it doesn't always seem that way.

How cool it would be if each of us could author the unique way we would contribute to life and the world, if each could write his own legacy. Some are given that opportunity but for me, like the vast majority, God has his own ideas. For that reason I have no choice but to keep my focus on cherishing what I have rather than feeling sorry for myself over what is missing. While keeping an open mind, heart and spirit, I will look around and about me for the doors of opportunity to swing wide to let me in. Until then I believe I am right where I'm supposed to be...

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven, Fall & Endings

The other man's grass is always greener
The sun shines brighter on the other side.
- Sung by Petula Clark in 1967 -


Heaven. The Promised Land. Shangri-la. Throughout the ages human dissatisfaction with the present has stirred a longing for another place where suffering, hardship, defeat and even death are absent. Sometimes that longing becomes the only hope in an existence that seems too cruel, unfair or unbearable. Sadly it is at that point we have, in effect, estranged heaven from earth.

Apparently our space exploration has taught us nothing. There are volumes of awe-inspiring pictures taken from the heavens that capture the intimate relationship enjoyed by heaven and earth. When looking off onto the horizon, how can one not see or imagine a point where earth and heaven actually meet and touch? For me to find that point is to discover the most powerful meaning of the "present." What greater goal could there be for the spiritual journey than to find that bridge?

Seeing heaven and earth as two separate places gives rise to many errors. It leads to the demonizing of the earth and our life upon it. It leads to the overglamorization of heaven where we attribute values and experiences that ought to be sought after here on earth. And, as we witnessed just over five years ago, it permits radicalized Muslims to board planes and bring about mass death and destruction to "get to the other side."

Fall invites and sometimes even urges a reflection on endings but considering the end of anything is an uncomfortable topic of conversation for many. Yet all around us we witness an undeniable transformation. On nature's canvas the life born of spring and nurtured in summer puts on one last splendid display before it enters into its time of rest - to stand naked, silent and still. But isn't the truely miraculous point of it all that next spring the story will be retold, will unfold again, just as it has from age to age?

Nature, the seasons and the renewal of life have taught me not to fear endings at all. Of course there is grief and sadness for we are confronted with the reality that we cannot cling forever to who and what we know and have grown comfortable with. But life is like those leaves we see falling from the trees all around us. People we have grown to love and cherish and the health, success and security we have worked hard an entire lifetime to find or achieve will all eventually fall beyond our grasp as individual leafs letting go of the tree of life we have shared. As the fall and our lifetime progress, we find ourselves increasingly alone and isolated on that tree. It is spiritually imperative that we come to peace with it being alright for us to let go ourselves. Considering how resistant we are to change throughout our lives, it is no surprise whatsoever that we find that letting go so difficult.

As I reflect on heaven, I find great solace in the cyclical pattern of nature. Afterall, since we humans are also part of that nature why would we not also be subject to the pattern of renewal we see displayed before our very eyes each year? From winter's dormancy new life will sprout in the spring. How is that any different from the miracle of child bearing and birth where a new life is born of the dormancy of the womb?

That life continues beyond our death I have no doubt, but what that life may look like has been the fodder of spiritual hope and speculation from the beginning of time. No one, not even the risen Jesus, has returned from the other side to reveal what awaits us. At first that may seem curious or odd but if that picture of heaven were definitively given to us we, being the humans that we are, would either grow impatient with or intolerant of life as we now know it, or would use that image as reason to commit acts to earn or buy our way into it, or would find fault with the ways in which it might fall short of our expectations, or would be incapable of comprehending it altogether anyway.

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.