Emmanuel Abord de Chatillon, Grenoble IAE Graduate School of Management; François Grima, University of Paris-Est Créteil Val de Marne (UPEC) and Pauline de Becdelièvre, École Normale Supérieure Paris-Saclay – Paris-Saclay University
A heated debate over the marriage of priests is currently raging within the Church. In late 2019, hundreds of Latin American and Indigenous American bishops, gathered at the Vatican, proposed lifting this ban. But in February 2020, Pope Francis declined to consider this possibility.
The celibacy of Catholic priests remains, in fact, a central tenet of canon law. A priest who renounces celibacy effectively distances himself from the Church and risks being harshly ostracized by the community. It is, in fact, one of the most brutal transitions imaginable: by renouncing their vocations, priests lose not only their jobs but also their professions and, very often, their professional, family, and social networks.
To better understand this rupture caused by a romantic relationship and its consequences, we met with 30 married priests and conducted interviews with them that lasted between 45 minutes and two hours.
Our findings reveal three profiles of former priests, all of which show that, even in an unfavorable or even hostile environment, a person’s ability to redefine themselves both personally and professionally remains significant.
These three profiles correspond to three strategies: hiding, criticizing the critics, and, finally, communicating to change perceptions.
"Disappointed in myself"
The first strategy—keeping the relationship secret—reflects a desire to develop the romantic relationship independently, while allowing time to consider the practical implications of distancing oneself from the Church. Here, the break with the Church is viewed with regret, as the priest values his work deeply but knows he cannot continue it while in a relationship. As one interviewed priest explained:
“I know that the direction this is leading me in will cause a lot of people pain. I’m thinking here of several priests as well as my parishioners. I’m disappointed in myself.”
The impetus usually stems from a life-changing event. There are two such cases here. The first is a decline in the health of the priest or his partner:
“Trying so hard to hide takes a toll on both body and mind. I had a heart problem that made me realize I couldn’t go on like that. I had to leave.”
The second is the discovery of the relationship:
“We ran into a parishioner while we were sitting on a café terrace for no particular reason… The news then spread.”
At that point, the priest has no choice but to leave. Everyone fears a breakup.
In this case, the experience of priests who left under similar circumstances does not give him cause for optimism:
“I remember a priest who had to leave in a hurry. The bishop didn’t even give him a chance to tell his parishioners he was leaving. He left in the middle of the night with his wife, who worked at a school from which she had been fired. Conditions like that really make you think.”
In this context, "leaving" also means losing one's home:
“The church hierarchy does not want the married priest to remain in his parish. His departure will therefore result in the loss of both my job and our home. I will therefore have to rely solely on my wife’s income, and on top of that, we will have to move.”
Nevertheless, the weight of the circumstances compels him to leave, regardless of the practical conditions.
"The Church is completely wrong!"
The second strategy involves the priest coming into conflict with the Church. Here, there is no regret, as there was in the first case. The priest is highly critical, as illustrated, for example, by this verbatim quote:
“The Church leads us to view women as a threat, when in fact the opposite is true. They represent an opportunity for growth. The Church is completely wrong!”
On the contrary, in his view, a spouse has a positive influence on the quality of a priest’s professional practice:
“I’ve been a much better priest since I’ve been with Ursula*. She’s opened my eyes to realities that my isolation as a priest prevented me from understanding. I’ve come to realize that I was abused by the Church.”
Criticism can be even more extreme when some people link this ban to recent child sex abuse scandals:
"Failing to address human sexuality opens the door to abuses such as targeting people with sexual perversions."
Another factor fuels the priest's anger: the hypocrisy of some of his colleagues:
“Many who preach to others are not themselves beyond reproach. On the contrary, there are many who maintain long-term relationships with female parishioners while at the same time condemning those who do the same.”
The priests don't want this hypocrisy:
“There’s no way we could have been in a secret relationship with Chantal* for years. That’s not possible. I couldn’t bring myself to put her through that!”
In this case, these couples differ from other situations in which both the spouse and the priest are considering a long-term clandestine relationship. Here, that is not a possibility.
This profile leads to a self-accepted psychological balance. Indeed, the married priest no longer defines himself as a priest. His estrangement from the Church is complete:
“I’m no longer a priest. I don’t need the Church to have a relationship with God.”
"You can help others without being a priest."
The final profile features a priest who has taken his professional work into his own hands. He feels he no longer needs the Church to do what he enjoys. His relationship with his spouse appears to be a sign from God, as one interviewee explains:
“God brought Odette* into my life. I don’t see why I should object to her coming. I didn’t give it much thought because I didn’t see the problem.”
Faced with this change, which is considered inevitable, the priest prepares by seeking training or by engaging his parishioners to improve his employability. Since the departure is anticipated, it does not lead to excessive emotional investment:
“I left with a light heart because I knew I would continue to do what I wanted to do: help others. You can certainly help others without being a priest.”
However, while the other two groups do not seek to maintain ties with the Church after leaving, the former priest remains connected to it by becoming an advocate for potential priests who may wish to leave the institution. This commitment can take various forms. For example, the priest may join associations of former priests to secure a better pension.
In some cases, former priests speak out publicly or write books recounting their life stories. However, there are limits to this commitment. Many point out that too much public attention can lead to difficulties they do not want to experience themselves or subject their loved ones to:
“I’d be willing to testify, but I’m afraid of what that might mean for my wife and daughter. They both attend a Catholic school, and I don’t think it would make things any better.”
In short, the more things change, the more they stay the same…
In conclusion, it is worth noting that the extreme case of married priests can be extended to all employees undergoing a career transition. It highlights the ability to rebuild one’s life after a breakup. Coming to terms with the loss of one’s previous professional identity can indeed lead to positive outcomes, such as finding a new career in a desired field, but it prevents a profound reevaluation of one’s work and its meaning.
In this regard, priests who choose to marry seem destined to completely rebuild not only their professional identity, but also the meaning behind it.
The first names have been changed.
Emmanuel Abord de Chatillon, Professor, Chair in Management and Occupational Health, CERAG, INP Grenoble IAE, Grenoble IAE Graduate School of Management; François Grima, University Professor, University of Paris-Est Créteil Val de Marne (UPEC) and Pauline de Becdelièvre, Associate Professor/Faculty Member, École Normale Supérieure Paris-Saclay – Paris-Saclay University
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.