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...

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