Awareness
During adolescence, I was aware that my sexual feelings weren’t like most of the other young men in my acquaintance. Growing up in a homophobic society and church, I struggled to find self-acceptance. As a newly ordained I became aware of and accepted my gay orientation through a life-changing spiritual experience. I verbally heard God speaking to me. “I made you gay. This is a gift I’ve given to you to enrich your life and that of others.” In time, I joined a gay priest support group. Along with my fellow support group members, I worked through the conflicting feelings and messages that confront us in our society and church.
A Broader Background
As a person with some native American heritage, I’ve been acutely aware of the brokenness and mixed record of the church regarding colonialism, systemic racism, clericalism, and other injustices. Also, coming from an abusive family background, I’ve been sensitive to the issues of sexual abuse and the marginalization of women in the church. When appropriate, I’ve spoken of these concerns and our need to be more inclusive.
Giving Witness
I’ve never made any personal written or verbal public statements about my orientation. However, when the subject would come up and sharing my orientation would enlighten a conversation with my personal experience, I’ve not hesitated to share my orientation on a one-to-one basis or in small groups. As a consequence, in my parishes and diocese, it became common knowledge that I was gay. With family, friends, and parishioners this was an overwhelmingly positive experience. Being personally open affirmed the dignity of LGBTQ+ individuals and gave hope to them and their loved ones. They felt less alone and abandoned. In contrast, openness with bishops and diocesan personnel was often met with rejection and criticism. My openness became a prophetic pebble in the shoes of the institutional church. Since I had not revealed my orientation from the pulpit or publicly written anything, the institutional church tolerated my presence. My openness extended beyond orientation issues to the broad spectrum of justice concerns within the church – the role of women, systemic clericalism, sexual abuse, and more.
To my knowledge, there were only three instances when someone contacted the diocese to complain. In two instances, this resulted in meetings with the diocesan priest personnel director who followed the politically correct line of the institutional church. Other than an institutional slap on the hand, nothing much came of these meetings. The third one, discussed below, had a different outcome.
Openness, Honesty, and Integrity
Over 30 years I’ve shared my concern about these issues with three different bishops. While not being supportive, one ignored or denied their importance. One was receptive and supportive. When he was reassigned, he said “I miss our conversations”. A third bishop reacted negatively.
Injustice
Four months into my 44th year as a priest, I hired a new DRE who had been recommended by the diocese. A few weeks afterward, this employee came to me with a concern about the orthodoxy of a retired DRE who volunteered in our parish religious ed program. It involved a trans individual who was returning to the Church. This employee was uncomfortable with the situation. In response, I shared that we, the church, are the broken body of Christ still bearing our sinfulness. We are not the resurrected body of Christ in heaven. I mentioned many of the difficult issues debated within the church. After about 10 or 15 minutes, the new employee said that she needed to pick up her kids. The conversation ended. I intended to follow up to help her to develop a better understanding of pastoral ministry which needs to be personal and flexible to the specifics of a situation. A rigid letter of the law understanding of theology and practice can choke off opportunities for understanding, healing, and reconciliation.
Unfortunately, a couple of days later, I got a phone call from the Priest Personnel director asking me to come down to the chancery. Upon arriving, I was ushered into a meeting room instead of the usual meeting place in the director’s office. In came the director with the diocesan lawyer behind him. The director read off a list of topics covered in my conversation with the employee. Immediately afterward, the lawyer said, “The diocese has zero tolerance for hostile work environments. If you weren’t a priest you would already be fired. If you aren’t careful you will find yourself liable and on your own with no support from the diocese.”
I responded that I had no idea how I could have created a “hostile work environment”.
The lawyer responded, “That is what they all say”.
It was clear that nothing I could say would make any difference. It was apparent that they had already decided what they believed to be the facts. Apparently, the employee had gone to a conservative priest who was her spiritual director. In turn, he went to HR to report a “hostile work environment”. Then HR went to the diocesan lawyer. I assume there was some consultation with the bishop by the priest personnel director. And then the priest personnel director called me.
They ordered me to write a letter of apology and to have no further conversations of this nature with the employee. Also, I was to remove the retired DRE from any parish ministry without explaining the circumstances.
In seeking to de-escalate the situation. I agreed to write a letter of apology and to talk with the retired DRE.
What Followed
I was strongly intimidated by the situation and conceded too much when I wrote the letter. However, I could not in conscience throw the retired DRE under the bus. Instead, I shared fully with her what had happened. Of course, she decided to withdraw from parish ministries involving religious ed.
On Friday of that week, we had a youth gathering which included the new employee. At an opportune moment, we stepped aside. I was surprised when she apologized to me saying, “I didn’t want this to go this far. And I never said that this was a hostile work environment.”
On the following Sunday in between the masses, we had an adult ed program on prayer which I attended with the employee. I shared some of my reflections on the Our Father as a “recipe for prayer”. The session went well.
In retrospect, I must admit that I was being naïve about the whole situation. After the employee’s apology and the two positive shared ministry situations, I erroneously concluded that she was not particularly upset by what had happened. I figured the real issue was with her priest spiritual director who took the matter to the diocese.
When the Sunday morning activities were complete, I stopped by the employee’s office to evaluate what had taken place. I asked, “What can we learn from this?” This was a big mistake.
The employee had not been honest with me. She did not return to work during the week following. By Tuesday, I got a phone call from the priest personnel director and told that I would meet with the bishop, himself, and probably the diocesan lawyer. I was told that I would have an opportunity to tell my side. Unfortunately, this did not occur.
Upon meeting with the three, the session began with the announcement that I would be placed on a “leave of absence”. I would need to attend some day counseling and evaluation sessions to “determine whether I was fit for parish ministry”. I was not to do anything in the parish other than to quietly celebrate the final daily mass on Friday. I was to confine my presence to the rectory or elsewhere, not on the parish property. Intimidated by the situation, I did not object.
Consequently, I left the parish and settled in at my cabin in the woods. I counseled with fellow priests and looked up the info that the AUSCP had sent out on “The Right of Priests”. Back at the parish, the priest personnel director announced at Sunday masses that I had taken a leave of absence. About 10 days after the meeting with the bishop, I received an email from the priest personnel director that arrangements had been made for me to spend a week or more as a resident at a counseling center. This would be a place paid for by the diocese and would have no confidentiality for me. In addition, the diocese had moved the goal post from an out-patient brief evaluation to an in-patient resident with no end in sight. Meanwhile, in conversations with fellow priests, it became clear that the new employee would not change. Any further professional relationship with her would probably result in another problem situation.
So, I called one of the lawyers recommended by AUSCP. I responded to the priest personnel director’s email with the following statement. “All future communications to me should be made through my lawyer”. This lawyer held both civic and cannon law licenses. Over the course of several months, communications went back and forth. The diocese claimed that I was trying to “rewrite the narrative”. By January, I was 5 months short of normal retirement in July, so I asked for and received an early retirement on February 1.
Lessons Learned
One of my statements to the employee was that “there are times when the institutional church is tempted to embrace its misperceived institutional good over the dignity of the human person”. The sexual abuse crisis is but one example of how damaging this can be to both the human person and the institutional church. The manner in which the diocese dealt with me was an additional example of this.
I have no regrets about my intentions or the spirit with which I responded to this situation. At all times, I tried to DYJWD. Relations between bishops and their priests are supposed to be that of brothers sharing in the ministry of Christ. From a paternalistic point of view, the bishop’s role is described as a spiritual father to his priests. But this does not always occur. (A corollary to the 5th commandment to “honor thy father and mother” is “honor thy son and daughter.”) To be faithful to the Gospel, there are times when priests and bishops should be prophetic to the institutional church. We should seek a balance of our ministry as priests (cultic sacramental figures), prophets (teachers), and king (institutional leaders).
Although I regret my lack of astuteness in responding to the situation, I am eternally grateful for the lessons learned and the deepening faith in the wisdom of the Gospel that has guided me. As a gay person growing up in an abusive family and a less-than-perfect church, I always felt cowed and intimidated by authority figures. This experience has freed me intellectually, spiritually, and relationally from the false shame and guilt that handicapped much of my ministry and life relationships. It has enabled me to more eloquently speak the Gospel message. I have experienced the freedom that comes with forgiving those who have wronged you. The words that Jesus spoke on the cross echo through this experience. “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” However, forgiveness is not achieved by forgetting. Rather it is an ongoing process where we lovingly hold one another accountable for one another’s dignity. This is why telling my story is important. It is a means of incarnationally proclaiming the message of the Gospel by both word and deed.