FATHER G, BIRTH CONTROL, AND RELIGION CLASS (A TRUE STORY)

 

Reader’s Note: For reasons that should be evident to anyone who knows “the Father G story”, I cannot identify him.  I just ask you, if you are one of his past religion students, and if you know “the Father G story”, why, why in the world, would you trust Father G, knowing what you now know about him?  Or did you just like what he had to say, as long as he was telling you what you wanted to hear?  Where was your moral indignation then?  Ask yourself --- and see if you truly believe your own answer.  YOUR SOUL DEPENDS ON IT.

 

I have promised myself for years now (how’s that for procrastination?) that if I don’t do one other thing in the time Almighty God gives me to try and serve Him in this apostolate, I am going to tell those who read these pages about “Father G” and what he did to endanger the salvation of 32 young souls.  So here goes.

 

The time: late 1970s, my senior year of high school.  The place: a diocesan high school in a small town on the periphery of the American Midwest.  This scenario may have played out, mutatis mutandis, in Catholic schools throughout North America, but I can only speak for my own experience.  This is the story of a priest I will call “Father G”.  I can’t identify him any more precisely than that.  I have my reasons.

 

To those reading this little story, if you were one of the 31 other people in the class besides me, yes, I am who you think I am.  Kook, Jesus freak, very conscientious (if a little on the clumsy side) altar server, a bit of a rebel, no other place for me than the seminary, you either said to my face or behind my back.  Well, I never made it to the seminary, because in all honesty, I never wanted to go.  God had other plans and so did I.  Everything worked out just fine.  But I digress.  If you want to quit reading right now, because a “kook” like me couldn’t possibly have anything to say worth listening to (much less taking to heart and reforming one’s life accordingly!), that’s your choice.  But I do hope you’ll at least let me have my say, and ask yourself “how does this apply to me?”.  That’s all I ask.

 

Father G taught our senior year religion class.  First things first: Father G did not accept all of the moral teachings of the Catholic Church.  I do, and so should you.  What’s more, Father G taught us that the “conscience” is supreme.  The Church’s teachings, oh, they’re “there”, it’s a good thing if you read them and think them over, but when push comes to shove, your “conscience” trumps everything.  Everything.  (I asked Father G one time, “even on abortion?”.  “Yes, even on abortion.”)  But again, I’m getting a bit away from what you need to hear from me today.

 

The senior religion class, or at least a large portion of it, was devoted to sexual morality.  Our textbook was Brother Hugo Hurst’s “A Search for Meaning in Love, Sex, and Marriage”.  Please, friends: forget everything you ever read in this book.  This book was trash.  This book was a manual for going straight to Hell.  If you still have it (which I doubt), go get it and throw it away.  Visit the TAN Books site (www.tanbooks.com), find a good book on marriage and sexuality (there are several), and read it cover to cover.  Another good book is “Dear Newlyweds”, a compliation of the teachings of Pope Pius XII on married life (http://www.angeluspress.org/family_life.htm).

 

Then came the big kahuna.  Birth control.  To give him his due, Father G did have each of us to read Pope Paul VI’s encyclical “Humanae vitae” (http://www.ewtn.com/library/ENCYC/P6HUMANA.HTM) in its entirety, and had us to submit individual written reports on it to prove that we’d read it.  So far so good.  I should point out right now that if you did read it, you have ABSOLUTELY NO EXCUSE for saying that you never heard the teaching of the Church on this matter.

 

As I said, it was senior year.  I was a male virgin (I feel the need to qualify this because for some reason, the word “virgin” all by itself, well, it just sounds female!) and, though I can’t speak with absolute certainty for each and every one of my classmates, I can pretty well tell you, out of that class of 32, who were virgins (of both genders) and who were not.  I mean this not as a condemnation, just stating the fact.  I was a male virgin and, in a few years (not too many years!), I wanted to meet and marry a Catholic woman who would also be a virgin, and start a happy Catholic family.  What to do about birth control?  How

could I accept the Church’s teaching and ever find a wife who accepted it too?

 

I think down the road.   I’m not much of a “que sera sera” person (my wife --- yes, I’m married, happily, thank you --- IS a “que sera sera” person, and what can I say, it’s a philosophical difference, a yin-yang, Mars-Venus type thing).   I saw, shall we say, clouds on the horizon.  For my part, I was getting kind of frightened.  I knew the Church’s teaching (and so did you), and I was resolved to be faithful to the Church, because when “modern times” (all times are modern to the people living in them; think about it) say one thing and the Church says another, I’ll go with the Church every time.  If you take your guidance from the world rather than the Church (when there’s a conflict between them; sometimes there is, sometimes there isn’t), then you really need to ask yourself how you view God, and truth, and right and wrong, and a whole lot of other things besides birth control.  You might want to go see Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ” if you haven’t already.  If it makes you cry, or makes you nervous, or even (as it did for me) makes you angry, then, friend, you have a standard of truth that is not of the world, but of God.  What, then, of the Church and birth control?  You have some issues that need addressing, and if this is the first time

you’re making that connection, consider that this is a very important moment in your life.

 

Okay, back to the late 1970s.  Spin back just a little.  Spin back to where Father G had us reading “Humanae vitae”.  Two things then happened in that classroom that I will remember until my dying day.  I honestly don’t recall which came first; I think they were both in the same hour’s class.  Father G asked “how many of you believe in the Church’s teaching on birth control”.  Out of 32 hands, one went up.  It wasn’t mine.  To the young woman who raised her hand (if you’re reading this, T., you

know who you are), all I can say is, you had guts and I’ll always admire you for that (as well as for being an all-around good person).

 

As I said, it wasn’t mine.  No, I was sitting there, afraid to say yes, afraid to say no.  I knew if I, too, had raised my hand, I’d forever mark myself as even more of a kook, and moreover, someone who wouldn’t be a desirable marriage prospect to anyone who didn’t accept this teaching as well.  And beyond this little classroom?  College?  Secular life in general?  A secular life where Catholics were a fairly small minority?  Would it help if I moved to a heavily Catholic area?  OR AM I GOING TO HAVE TO REMAIN SINGLE AND CELIBATE FOR MANY, MANY YEARS, POSSIBLY THE REST OF MY LIFE???  I had plans beyond our little school and our little town.  That wasn’t the real issue.  So, then, why didn’t I raise my hand?  Simple.  Human respect.  Not having to take an unpopular stand.  Think of Peter and the cock crowing three times.  He denied Christ and, in not raising my hand, so did I.  And so did you.

 

But it wasn’t over.  Father G had a remedy.  Now these words, I most certainly WILL carry to my grave.  Here’s what he said: “Now let me tell you how you can get around this”.  I’ll repeat.  Father G, a priest of God, a priest who is supposed to be helping souls get to Heaven, said about Humanae vitae… Now let me tell you how you can get around this”.

 

Father G then launched into a convoluted (and bogus!) explanation of how “conscience” is the final arbiter of any moral decision, and how there was all sorts of dissent in the Church over this matter, and how the existence of a “Magisterium” implied the existence of alternate “magisteria” (hmmm… by that logic, the existence of an “Eiffel Tower” implies the existence of other “Eiffel Towers”, the existence of a “Hoover Dam” implies the existence of other “Hoover Dams”, and so on… friends, that’s bogus, you know it, I know it, and Father G knew it then and knows it now!!!), and how these other “magisteria”… and so on and so on.  Bottom line, if your “conscience” doesn’t tell you that birth control is a sin, then presto, it’s not, and you can quit worrying about it, go in peace.

 

This is absolute, unadulterated bulls***.

 

Now listen to me, because I am going to tell you something very, very important.  POPE PAUL WAS RIGHT AND FATHER G WAS WRONG.  Birth control is a sin, a sin of the flesh, and all deliberate sins of the flesh are mortal sins that, even if committed once, will send you straight to Hell if you do not repent of them before you die.  (It would be very hard to

commit an accidental sin of birth control.  Think about it.)  Let me repeat.  POPE PAUL WAS RIGHT, FATHER G WAS WRONG, AND FATHER G WAS WRONG TO TELL ALL OF US THINGS LIKE THAT.  And don’t forget that we’re talking

mortal sin here.  The murder of souls.  This was spiritual terrorism, my friends!  Will your soul survive it?

 

It took me the better part of a year, after I’d gone on to college, to quit being a coward and accept the Church’s teaching on birth control, even if it would mean staying single for life, which thankfully it didn’t, though I did have to wait until I was 32 years old to marry!  Yes, my fears were realized, at least in part, as I had to wait 15 years.  Not much fun at times.  But I did manage to accomplish a lot in life, did a lot of study and traveling, and laid the groundwork for a modest career, much of which probably wouldn’t have happened if I’d married younger (but who can say for sure?).

 

I later confronted Father G about these issues, after I’d grown a spine (that was a more gradual process than I care to admit).  He didn’t budge one inch.  Conscience trumps everything, he maintained.  And this isn’t a personalities thing.  I always liked Father G very much as a person.  Heck, I loved the guy all to pieces, as the saying goes.  Still do.  (Though we haven’t had contact in many years.)  You’ll never meet a nicer guy than Father G.  But, alas, being a nice guy, being a good person (whatever that means…), isn’t the bottom line.  Being a nice guy won’t get you into Heaven.  I’m sure Hell is full of nice guys.

 

If you do not accept the Church’s teaching on birth control, you should. Your salvation depends on it.  Do a reality check and make whatever changes in your mind and in your life that you have to make.  This is not optional.

 

I pray for all of you, my misled classmates, and please join me in praying for Father G.  I think he could use those prayers right now.