Abandoned Altars

Anyone’s who has actually read this blog has probably seen it coming. And it’s happened at last. My time as a priest is up.

I have now officially retired as a priest (archpriest, actually) in the Church of Antioch. This doesn’t mean I lose any of the powers of the priesthood. But then again, not even the Pope could take them away, even if I were a Roman priest.

It turns out that when they say “thou art a priest forever” they mean it. According to the Catholic Church’s own theory, all they can take away is the authorization to perform the sacraments.

Maybe that’s why the Roman Church doesn’t excommunicate perps. Maybe they feel it’s safer to keep them in the fold, so they don’t go off on their own…

But I digress. I was talking about my own path and how it has changed.

There are several reasons for this. Until it was diagnosed quite recently, gout has made even the idea of performing a religious service rather unlikely for me. It’s better now, thanks to modern medicine and a proper diagnosis, but it was what started me thinking maybe it was time.

However, my ministry has never been very sacramental, though that’s how I intended to go. Once I realized I had been abused by a priest when I was an altarboy, everything changed.

With victims, wearing a clerical collar is not a good way to gain trust. Working with and counseling victims was a very different experience than with “normal” Catholics. Usually, I felt compelled to confess that I was a priest the moment I met a victim, and apologize for it. In turn, I was told some pretty awful stories about how people had been abused, not just sexually, but by their Church. I thought I’d had it bad, but my sufferings were quite minor to the onslaught of body, mind, and spirit many unfortunates have undergone.

So, I concentrated on using my poor artistic and literary skills to help them in whatever way I could. I published newsletters, created websites and mailing lists. But it was never enough. I’ve been burned out and mired in despair more than once.

But still I’ve soldiered on, trying to be a voice for survivors to the clergy, trying to explain the clergy to survivors. It was a tough balance and a thankless task, and it couldn’t last. I finally had to make up my mind about where my true path lay.

What decided on this final break, however, were new opportunities. As I was contemplating the future, several ideas struck me. Ideas that could be revolutionary for the Survivors Movement.

It is too soon to announce them in detail. But they are very exciting and I hope other survivors and our supporters and friends find them equally exciting.

Until then, watch this space, and as we say here in the Southwest, Vaya con Dios, amigos!