Given the new pastoral provision for Anglicans who desire to join the Catholic Church, there is a revised focus upon the question of priesthood and celibacy. Episcopalian priests will be ordained (absolutely, if not conditionally) and this will include those who are married men. While bishops must be celibate, some of the married priests (former Episcopalian bishops) will be given authority much like that given abbots of religious houses. Further, while future aspirants from their ranks would be asked to embrace celibacy; it has been assured that the Pope could make exceptions for their seminarians on an individual basis and that he would be generous in doing so. Okay, there is the rub. It seems to some conservative critics, that an accommodation is being given these “new” Catholics which continues to be denied to those with long-standing and family ties to Roman Catholicism. Intellectually, many of us are pleased and excited that there is this reciprocal motion: their movement in faith toward Catholic unity and the Church’s willingness to take them into the fold. Of course, we are not merely creatures of intellect; but, like all people, in possession of emotions and passion. That is one of the reasons that few dioceses, if any, would ever assign a celibate priest to live in the same household with a married clergyman and his family. Celibacy is a sacrifice where a man can know joy and a single-hearted love of God. Nevertheless, the sacrifice is real and like the Cross, it can be painful at times. Many good men have had their heart-strings pulled and yet they remained faithful to their promises. They made distance when necessary and cried their tears in silence. As we make room in the Western Church for married priests, we must be mindful of these wounded celibate men. I would not say that we should feel sorry for them, although I am often tempted to feel such for married men who suffer with the tension between their family needs and ministerial commitments. I suppose in that sense we could say that married priests are also wounded healers. How could any man be “another Christ” to his people if he has not embraced our Lord’s Cross? There is a mystery here: the man commissioned to heal and to bring Christ’s mercy to others must himself be like a bread broken and a cup poured out.
Married & Celibate Priests: Wounded Healers
Posted on February 29, 2012 by Father Joe













































Dear Fr Joe,
The Greek philosophers had an archetype for the wounded healer; he was Chiron, and it can serve us well, but only if the wounding has been looked at very deeply and healed. It is then that the wounded healer can perform his ministry. This personal history can allow the healer to feel true empathy with ‘the other’ who needs compassion, acceptance and true understanding.
Over here in UK now we have a huge surge towards CBT as it is quick and inexpensive and our National Health Service is strapped for cash. I am of the impression that it’s a bit like a ‘Band-aid’ but might be OK for some. Others where the wounding goes to the very depths of the soul, for example some of those who have been abused by trusted adults, need much greater understanding and time. And this is exactly where the Priest, who has had his own traumas and heartaches, if resolved as far as possible, can be immensely valuable.
How can someone, therapist or Priest alike, fully engage with and understand a depressive, say, if he, himself, has not been to a similar place. How can anyone even start to understand what might go through the mind of some poor soul as they take their own life, if they, too, have not been close to giving up. I remember sitting on a railway bridge waiting to jump in front of a train; obviously I didn’t but I know how despairing I felt at the time and can somehow understand just how my father felt before he killed himself.
I was married for 13 years, and that marriage ended in divorce, and I well remember the whole range of feelings that racked my body and mind at that time. I lead a single and celibate life now, not out of choice but of necessity, and some days it’s hard work. However I can now use that wounding to help me understand others as they go through their dark night of the soul.
It is difficult not to judge others, especially if we have not walked the distance in their shoes, but we do also know what is right and what is wrong. We can use this experience, hard won, to love the sinner but hate the sin.
With love, Paul.