Cathal BarryAs a new support group launches, Cathal Barry meets a man coming to terms with being a priest’s son
The notion that a priest who has sworn a vow of celibacy before God could father a child may be alien to many. However, while professional opinion would deem the occurrence “rare”, the situation is not unheard of.
Speaking to The Irish Catholic this week under the pseudonym ‘Colm’, the son of a Catholic priest opened up about his “difficult” childhood shrouded in secrecy.
“The question of who my father was had always been a menacing matter. There was always a certain amount of secrecy surrounding it. It’s difficult for any child to comprehend any level of secrecy let alone this,” he said.
Colm was about 10 years old when he became “more attuned to the concept of secrecy” that surrounded him.
“The secrecy troubled me. The holding your breath not to upset the status quo. It wasn’t easy or fair,” he reasoned.
Truth
Despite “always knowing” the truth deep down, Colm’s turmoil over who his father was persisted into his early 20s when he finally felt strong enough to “broach the subject” with his mother.
His suspicions had been right all along. Colm’s father was a man he knew very well – “a gentleman” – who has subsequently passed away.
“He was a warm, loving, kind and generous man. He was a Catholic priest.”
Colm felt “drawn” to him from an early age. “The fact he had a collar made no difference,” he insisted. “He was adorable, so lovely in every sense of the paternal way.”
Colm had contact with the man who turned out to be his father almost every day throughout his childhood, speaking on the phone whenever a meeting wasn’t possible.
“Being around him told me subconsciously that he was my father. At same time I knew there was an element of secrecy around it. I saw or heard from him every day. I would say hand on heart that I was the most important thing in his life.”
Having grown up in 80s and 90s Ireland, Colm appreciates the “genuine” fear his father must felt as a priest who had fathered a child
“He was genuinely afraid of what would happen to him and what would happen to me. There was a tremendous amount of unnecessary fear.”
However, looking back now Colm insists he “wouldn’t change it”.
“It was a little family. He was a good man who did his best as a priest and as father,” he said.
It was during Colm’s mid-teens, still unware of who his father was, when the priest he loved died. “It was very confusing experience grieving for him. I was so upset but I had to ask myself whether it was appropriate to be upset? You cannot express your sorrow in a human way when it’s clouded with secrecy,” he said.
Reflecting on the man, Colm did a great deal of soul searching in the years that followed his father’s death.
“I realised I had inherited a lot of traits and reflecting on his qualities, I began to think that maybe he was my father. My suspicions were becoming validated by my experiences,” Colm observed.
When he finally built up the courage to speak to his mother and she confirmed his suspicions, Colm was “overjoyed to be in the openness of truth”.
The feeling of relief mixed with joy was indescribable. There was always the chance I was wrong but I’m glad I was right,” he said.
The confirmation of who Colm’s father was provided him with an identity at last.
“I was so glad it was him and I had my identity. To know who you are, that is the most important thing, irrespective of who your dad is.”
The discovery changed Colm’s life for the better.
“I feel a lot calmer and settled now. I had a sense of being unsettled that was bound up in who my biological father was. I have no weight on my shoulders now and I’m living happily,” he said.
Colm never felt any anger towards the Church. Rather he believes society is in some sense at fault.
“It’s easy to point a finger at the Church but the Church is bound up in society. I have had a very positive response from a Church representative who met me,” he said. “It was actually the laity who posed the most problems,” he added.
Despite adapting and coping well with his situation, Colm availed of counselling provided to him by Towards Healing, the counselling referral service for people who have experienced institutional, clerical or religious abuse in Ireland.
“Counselling saved my sanity and brought out the best of who I am. It allowed me to arrive at a place where expectations of discretion were removed. It enabled me to have the confidence to be myself. It’s an essential necessary service,” Colm said.
Counselling ‘a must’ for children of priests – leading psychiatrist
Coping International is a new organisation which seeks to secure free and professional help for all children of Catholic priests and their mothers.
Having already achieved their aim of having free counselling provided for children of priests in Ireland, Coping now plans to spread the initiative to other countries in the hope of raising this issue and reaching a consensus that help is needed.
Leading psychiatrist Prof. Patricia Casey, who has voiced her support for the organisation, insists that while this is not a “common” issue, more children of priests may come forward as a result of Coping’s foundation.
Due to the rarity of the situation, no psychiatrist could claim to have expertise in the area.
However, speaking from her experience of people and children in general, Prof. Casey said the major issue that children of priests face is secrecy.
“It seems the big issue is the secret of it. Even if they are misled they might have a sense that something is not quite right,” she said.
Likewise, if informed later in life that their father was a priest, Prof. Casey suggested that children “might feel they missed out on something, that they never had a real dad”.
“There is also the additional impact on the mother, who may feel shame by becoming pregnant. This can induce guilt which is transmitted to children,” she added.
Prof. Casey, who is based at UCD and the Mater Misericordiae Hospital, said she expects that somebody who was conceived by a priest would feel a “strong sense of estrangement and emptiness”.
“Those who knew the priest might get over it and adapt and be glad they had met their father so they could grasp true identity, while others may be very angry or distressed about not knowing him,” she observed.
It is for this reason Prof. Casey maintains it is “vitally important” that “some therapy service” is provided for people who feel they need it.
“Some will accept the situation but others may feel angry with their parents for not telling them the truth.
“They need an outlet where that can be explored and ultimately move on towards physiological healing and adjustment,” she said.
Therapy
Prof. Casey is also adamant that such therapy be provided by well-trained therapists who appreciate the “uniqueness of these situations”.
“These are unusual circumstances that have not been studied in any depth.
“They will need to be well grounded with the ability to think laterally in an area where there is little or no solid scientific information,” she said.
An organisation like Coping, according to Prof. Casey, is an “absolute must”.
“I support it unreservedly. The children of priests are in an unusual and rare situation and their specific needs have not been recognised to date. They do have needs and the idea behind Coping is an excellent one,” she said.