Being a man of the cloth comes with a lot of responsibility. You’re responsible for your flock, the good people who come to you in times of celebration, and in times of crisis. You need to be there for them on their best days, and on their absolute worst. You’re expected to help them live a good life, one that will get them into heaven. You need to answer theological questions, and questions related more to the physical plane rather than the ethereal one. It’s not an easy job, and not everyone is cut out for it. That’s why it’s a calling. If God Himself didn’t ask me to join the clergy, I’d probably be an accountant or a social worker. Working 24-7 to keep people on the path to everlasting spiritual joy isn’t an easy one, and it can be quite demanding. One of the hardest things to do is to keep secrets.
Consider the time I learned about one of our married members having an affair with another married member. The poor woman couldn’t take the guilt anymore, and spilled the whole lurid story to me. Her quite detailed recounting of the situation punctuated by sobs concluded with asking me what to do. Me! I’m not even allowed to get married, to say nothing of carnal relations. What could I tell her? I asked her to read some passages in the Bible, reflect on her actions. To think on her love for her family and to remember the vows I helped her take. As far as I can tell, she’s admitted nothing to anyone else, or people are just more freewheeling about pleasures of the flesh than I might have thought.
I certainly couldn’t have gone to her husband and let him know what I was told in confidence, nor could I have chastised her lover. There are rules, no, laws by which I must abide. She took it on herself to bare her soul to me, and by proxy the Lord. It is for Him to judge, and for Him to act, if He so chooses. Should He let them carry on canoodling without giving a sign to anyone involved, who am I question His will? It is not my place, and if there is one thing that is drilled into your head in seminary, it is what your place is. It doesn’t make church picnics any easier, let me tell you.
This story wasn’t even the most lascivious that I’ve been made privy to, it’s just an example of what a minefield this vocation can be. It’s not so bad when it’s just an affair. No one is being physically harmed by the act, though the fallout from discovery could be quite injurious. It is an awareness of the consequences that make it a little easier to keep my mouth shut. It’s another thing when people come to me at their lowest, spiritually. When none of the answers to their questions seem to help. Sometimes it manifests itself as a crisis of faith, “How can a good and just God allow cancer to take my mother away? How could he let a school bus full of kindergartners on a field trip plummet off of the side of a bridge?”, and so on. These aren’t easy questions to answer, but the years have taught me that questions such as these have broader implications. It’s not about why they should continue to worship and live a godly life, but why they should continue to live at all.
It’s good to know your congregation well enough to know how to answer this question for them. Remind them of the good that they have done in the past, and the good that they will do in the future if they stay on the path of light. Help them channel their grief and their sadness into something positive. Their story of overcoming their doubt and their fears in the face of what seems like overwhelming darkness in their lives can inspire others who need help to keep going. People want to be remembered for doing good things and overcoming adversity, ethereal or otherwise, not for turning their back on all that is good and holy.
However, I am starting to find that it is difficult to remain a moral leader when the organization you’re part of is taking a lot of flack, and rightfully in my opinion, for covering up some of the worst, and most damaging breaches of trust that someone purporting to be virtuous can make. Those are the hard questions to answer. Why would the church ignore the abused? Why would they help the abuser? Honestly, I don’t really have the answers to those questions. It feels wrong to try to explain it as God’s plan. Does God believe that the good that can be performed by an otherwise pious man outweigh the damage he does to the children and families in their parish? If one lives a holy life, one that inspires others to see the power of the word of God and His light, do the scales still tip in his favour should one be an aberrant predator in other aspects of their life? If this sin is cleansed by confession, is there an obligation to deal with man’s laws? If God can forgive, then surely man should as well.
I really don’t know.
I became aware of a potential wolf in sheep’s clothing. He has… preferences. As far as I know he hasn’t acted on them, but he appeared in a frenzy, not knowing what to do. He didn’t understand why God would tempt him in this way. Had he done something wrong? Had he failed morally or spiritually to be inflicted with these unholy thoughts? As a priest himself, he could not find comfort in the Bible, nor could he find the answers he needed that would explain his feelings. More than anything, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to hurt the little ones that he couldn’t keep out of his imagination, and he didn’t want to sully the vestments. He had managed to stop himself from committing any sinful acts, but the temptation was mounting, and he was finding it more difficult every day to avoid ruining lives. He admitted that he was considering killing himself to protect the innocence of the children in his charge. He so desperately wanted to avoid becoming a pervert that he was contemplating throwing the heavenly reward he had worked his whole life for away. I reminded him of the good he was doing on a daily basis in the name of the Lord. I asked him to remember why he joined the seminary in the first place, and to hold the love of God in his heart as he lived his life. I told him that the Devil was tempting him, and that this was his opportunity to prove himself capable of overcoming Satan, and showing that the love of our Saviour could shield us from sin.
This seemed to quell his urge for self harm, and reinforced the importance of his position, and the vows we took. He walked away a new man. However, I am not a naïve man. Certainly, there are things in this world that I have not experienced, there is much that I have forsaken in order to become a man of God, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Like my father used to say, I didn’t fall off the back of the turnip truck. I believe that a relapse is inevitable, and I am not sure that he has the strength to resist the next time he is overcome with feelings of lust. I also believe that I have a responsibility to him, the same as I would any of my parishioners. I want him to get into heaven so I need to prevent him from taking his own life. So, too, I must protect the children.
My role has a lot of rules that are specific to it, but there are also general rules for everyone, and I am in service to those rules as well. While I could take his life for him, there’s a pretty significant penalty incurred when smiting a man of God, and I am still trying to make my way to heaven. Plus, I don’t believe that I could take the life of another, even in a case where I’m protecting the innocence of children. Were someone to ask me, I don’t know if that position represents a strength or a weakness of my character.
However, one of my jobs is to interpret the Bible, and I’m pretty good at it. I was once told that had I not gone into the priesthood, I could have made a pretty good lawyer, what with all of the twisting of words and meanings that being a priest entails. I was sure that there was a loophole. In fact, I had a plan that fulfilled all of the objectives of my new mission. Protect the children, prevent scandal, and get all of us into heaven. I just needed to find a hit man.
This may seem to run counter to my over-arching mission for God, but as in many aspects of life compromise is to be made from time to time. I’m not a perfect man, and while I’m conflicted with the decision, I felt that it was alright to use one, single soul already bearing the stains of murder to save the spirits, and maybe even the lives, of many more. Despite all of the prayer and meditation I’ve done since, the answer to the righteousness of my choice still eludes me.
Through our spiritual, arts, and literacy outreach programs all of the criminals I do know are making amends and forging a relationship with the Lord. Still, I wasn’t going to approach any of them with this scenario as I certainly did not want to be responsible for causing a man to fall who has expended so much energy climbing out of a life of crime. Nor did I wish to tarnish my image, or that of the Church, with anyone. This needed to be anonymous.
I wasn’t the most technically minded priest out there, but our youth group is teeming with bright young minds, soaked in computers, and preventing their parents from seeing what they were doing online was second nature to some. I had heard of the terrors of the Dark Web on the news, so I wrote a sermon about how it was leading our children down the left hand path to drugs, and sex, and death, and how important it was to have discussions with our community’s youths to ensure that they don’t fall out of God’s good graces. I kept my eyes peeled for the reactions of the more computer-savvy members of the congregation and by the end of the sermon I knew who could answer my questions.
I showed up at the next youth group meeting to have a “jam sesh” with the kids. It wasn’t out of character for me to show up at these meetings and hang out with the youngsters, so I don’t think anyone suspected anything. I managed to pry out answers about what the Dark Web is, and how would I know if someone was accessing it. They were also kind enough to enlighten me about bitcoin, and it was clear that I would need some of that were I to carry out my plan. After getting one of the kids to do a role-playing exercise for me, downloading and installing the required software onto my laptop so I “would recognize the tools of the Devil when I saw them”, I was ready for action.
It took a while to find what I was looking for. Navigating the Deep Web is relatively complicated. I couldn’t just do a search for “hit man” and get put in contact with one. It was weeks of learning what I was doing, and in that time I saw things that turned my stomach. Advertisements selling illicit drugs and prostitutes, males and females of all ages. Videos containing all manner of pornography, and violence. It was hard to believe that such a resource existed, and it certainly made me wonder about the state of the world we lived in. I knew that things were far from perfect, but I always believed that we were closer than what I saw on the Dark Web indicated. I recognized that I, as one man, was unlikely to make a difference here, and instead chose to stay the course, seeking a saviour of sorts.
Eventually, I found myself on a forum that purported to connect those looking to have someone killed with those that would kill for a price. Even on the Dark Web, commerce is commerce. There were reviews and testimonials, and the sellers often made examples of their handiwork available to be seen, like free samples outside of a cinnamon bun kiosk in a mall food court. It’s important to get a sense of what you’re buying.
I was looking for someone experienced and professional, and didn’t get their jollies by inflicting pain. I wanted someone who could make it quick and painless. Despite the fact that their target was a fiend bubbling under the surface, he still hadn’t actually hurt anyone, and having him killed was meant to be a boon, not a punishment. I sent messages to my top three selections, and waited for quotes.
Now, you might expect that I was looking for the cheapest contractor, but that was not the case. I was brought up by my father to believe in the value of money, and the importance of paying someone what they were worth. “You get what you pay for, boy,” he would say, “it might cost more, but the job will be done better, and the product will last longer. Don’t be stingy when it comes to the important things.”
What then, is more important than protecting the innocence of children, and the spiritual life of a pious man?
Ready to buy as much bitcoin as my life savings would allow, I prayed that I would be able to afford at least one of my options, and, praise God, only one of them was out of my price range. I began a dialogue with my top pick and began hammering out the details. How soon could it happen? Were there any options in regards to the method of death? What would he or she need from me? It was mundane stuff, though I was given a discount when I explained why I was hiring them. It’s surprising how often one finds goodness in dark places.
I provided payment, a name, a photograph, addresses for where the target lived and worked, and a schedule of their day to day, as best I could determine. The contractor and myself were no longer to have any contact with one another, and while I had some trepidation about having been fleeced, I felt assured that were they a swindler, they wouldn’t have asked for less money than I had been willing to pay. So, I waited.
We had decided that it was best if I didn’t know exactly when it was going to happen, mainly so I couldn’t do something out of character like go on an unplanned trip they day that it was to take place. I didn’t want doubt cast on my innocence unnecessarily. I knew when the work was to be completed by, and nothing else. I just needed to keep the priest from doing anything foolish until the deed was done. In the end, I never even asked to know the method, beyond a promise of “quick and painless”.
It happened at lunch time.
I ate lunch on the same bench everyday for a few months. I ate a ham sandwich, drank a chocolate milk, ate a small bag of regular potato chips, and two cookies for dessert. Near a pond, I was allowed to witness geese lay eggs, and eventually hatch. The miracle of life is no less miraculous when the life is furred or feathered. The adult geese taught the goslings how to swim, and fly, and land. Most importantly, they were taught to be wary of animals (humans included) that they didn’t know, for they may be predators. Humans do the same for their children. They teach them to walk, and talk, and play, and right and wrong, and who to trust. Geese and humans both make the same mistake though, they think that the predators come from outside their tribe. They still haven’t learned that the worst offenders are part of their inner circle. That they already trust those that would do the most harm.
I had been having unnatural desires for years. I was in a place of trust and it would have been so easy to pluck a berry from the bush. I couldn’t do it. For a long time, thoughts would bubble to the surface, and I would lock myself in my room and pray. I would pray to be cured of the affliction. I would pray that God would protect the children. I would pray that this would be the last time. I would pray until I collapsed. My knees on fire, I would limp for days afterward, and accepted the pain as some form of punishment for my desires, despite never acting on them. I refused to let the Devil win. Having monstrous thoughts and being a monster aren’t always the same thing.
I never felt the bullet slam into my face. My death was quick and painless. Just like dad used to say, “You get what you pay for.”
THE END