Priest: A Love Story

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Carnal.” She laughed, and it was breathy, rich music. I suddenly found myself wondering what she looked like—whether she was fair or tanned, whether she was curvy or slender, whether her lips were delicate or full. And I still noticed women, certainly, but I had become quite adept at steering my thoughts away from the sexual. Celibacy had become a controversial tenant of the priesthood these last few years, but I still abided carefully by it. Especially in light of what had happened to my sister. And what had happened to this parish before I came. I considered my answer carefully. “We’re all sinners in the eyes of God. Even me. The point is not to make you feel guilt or categorize the magnitude of your sin, but to—” I, uh. I’ve never done this before.” Her voice was low and beguiling, the aural rendering of moonlight.

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The point is, for being a holy man in a sleepy bed and breakfast town in the Midwest, I am fairly busy, so I can be forgiven for being surprised that next week when the woman returned to my confessional. But in her voice—there was real pain and uncertainty and confusion. And I wanted to make it better for her. The screen helps,” she admitted. “It’s easier to not see you, with, you know, the robes and stuff while I’m talking.” I hated it from the moment I saw it, something old-fashioned and hulking from the dark days before Vatican II. Growing up, my church in Kansas City had a reconciliation room, clean and bright and tasteful, with comfortable chairs and a tall window overlooking the parish garden.Don’t give me that seminary horseshit,” she said sharply. “I’m asking you a real question. I did something bad. Really bad. And I don’t know what happens next.” A really base and awful part of me wanted to hear her confession still, not so I could give her more specific counseling and assurance, but so that I could know exactly what carnal things this girl had to apologize for. I wanted to hear her whisper those things in her breathy voice, I wanted to take her into my arms and kiss away every single tear.

Priest: A Love Story (Audio Download): Sierra Simone, Jacob Priest: A Love Story (Audio Download): Sierra Simone, Jacob

This booth was the antithesis to that room—constrained and formal, made of dark wood and unnecessarily ornate molding. I’m not a claustrophobic man, but this booth could turn me into one. I folded my hands and thanked God for the success of our latest fundraiser. Ten thousand more dollars, and we would be able to renovate St. Margaret’s of Weston, Missouri into something resembling a modern church. No more fake wood paneling in the foyer. No more red carpet—admittedly good for hiding wine stains—but terrible for the atmosphere. There would be windows and light and modernity. I’d been assigned to this parish because of its painful past…and my own. Moving past that would take more than a facelift for the building, but I wanted to show my parishioners that the church was able to change. To grow. To move into the future.I fell asleep with the rosary beads clenched in my fist, as if they were an amulet to ward off unwanted thoughts.