…for those who believe the wrong doing / evil of some of the church leaders and priests negates the holiness of its' REAL priests…

The Depth of My Anger of Decades of Effete Bishops

On May 1 of this year, I was looking down on the gray, lifeless body of my uncle, Fr. Donald Murray. He was my Godfather too.

When I was growing up, my uncle would show up for family gatherings. He was full of life and had an amazing sense of humor. It’s no wonder that, when I emerged from my parents basement on June 24, 1981, I would shock them with the news that I wanted to enter seminary … virtually no one was entering seminary then, and I had given no indication this was coming. Of course, I couldn’t wait to tell my uncle, who was my childhood hero.

Fast forward to May 27, 1988, and that amazing image of my uncle praying over me at my priesthood ordination. I’ll never forget that day.

We still gathered at my parents house for family gatherings. My uncle and I would share war stories from the front lines of parish life. You know? I have never had one day when I questioned my call to priesthood. I love being a priest!

As the years wore on, I began to recognize a “need” in the Church. Something was gnawing at me, and I couldn’t shake it. I felt as though Catholicism, all around me, had become weak and watered down. I began to think about my early childhood years, and even imagined the Church in my uncle’s early childhood years. Back then, God, Church and Parish were “our life.” We took our faith seriously. We were more than homo sapiens, we were children of God. Our whole lives revolved around faith and church.

But, that seemed to change, in “modern times.” Church was reduced to an inconvenient obligation, in the midst of everything else that was “more important” in our lives. Following Church teaching became “optional,” as our conscience became our god. I knew this was different then “it used to be.” And, in my bones, I knew we had drifted away from our “essence”: our raison d‘être; our reason for being.

Then, on February 2, 1998, while I was on my 10th anniversary sabbatical, studying in Rome, I attended my first Papal Mass. I won’t go into the whole story here but I was changed. From that day forward, it became my “everything” to help souls to enter into the “Divine Life.” I knew that couldn’t happen, unless I began by offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass in a way that truly pointed to the transcendent, to the majesty of God.

Over the years that followed, I became more dedicated to reverent Masses, excessive availability of Confession and Adoration, teaching about the beautiful devotions of our faith, especially a devotion to the Blessed Mother. I fell more deeply in love with God and more deeply in love with the rich treasury of our Catholic faith.

But, here was the devastating part of that change in me. It offended my uncle, my godfather and the inspiration for my priesthood. He became distant from me, and only had time for the “liberal” priests of our diocese. At my 25th anniversary – it had become so bad by then – I was actually surprised he showed up. He was cold and distant from me, and managed to utter one comment, just before he concelebrated the Mass with me (that was offered ad orientem): “I’ll try to endure this,” he said. You can only imagine how deeply that cut into my heart.

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