The following article was printed in CORPUS REPORTS, a bi-monthly journal of CORPUS. For those un-familar with CORPUS ( Corps of Reserve Priests United for Service), it is one of the oldest reform groups in the Catholic Church, founded by a group of married priests in 1974. We strive with all of God’s people to bring the dynamic and fresh values of Christianity to our modern world.
A NEW DIMENSION TO PRIESTLY MINISTRY
“That all may be one” John 17:21
Fifty years ago, ordained on May 28, 1955, I fully expected to be a parish priest for the rest of my life. I loved being a parish priest, representing Christ, the Good Shepherd, for a congregation at Saint Patrick’s, an inner-city community in Wilmington, Delaware. Sheltered from the real world in a protective environment of the seminary, I was immature, naive and hardly ready to face the challenges of priestly ministry in the pre -1960’s.
However, prior to ordination, my spirituality became Christ centered, rather than Church oriented. This happened as a seminarian, during summer and Christmas vacations spent in Stowe, Vermont, with the von Trapp Family. While staying at their Music Camp and lodge, I was moved by the joyous spirit of Christian community I experienced there. Christ became real as a person and friend. The famous Maria, who later became the heroine of THE SOUND OF MUSIC, brought together a special group of happy people that included several priests, whose vision and dedication to priestly ministry reflected the spirit of renewal that Vatican II Council would soon foster. Also, reading Worship, Commonweal, and America magazines, helped me appreciate that the goodness of love, rather than rules, was the answer to most of the challenges facing us in the modern world.
When the Bishop of Wilmington assigned me to Saint Patrick’s, the number of Catholic families had sharply declined. Black families moving into former Irish and Italian neighborhoods, was causing an exodus of white families to the suburbs. The elderly pastor, too feeble to do anything more than celebrate daily Mass, trusted me to handle the pastoral needs of a dwindling flock. He allowed me to do whatever needed to be done in all areas of running the parish, except financial. I never saw the check book.
A few years later, Father Alex, the new parish administrator, did not appreciate the progress other leaders in the City, and I, were making in overcoming racial bigotry. At Saint Patrick’s parish, Black Catholic families moving into surrounding neighborhoods were welcomed and encouraged to participate in social as well as religious activities . Father Alex, who did not want to see the few remaining wealthy parishioners move to the suburbs, shocked me one Sunday when he said, “Get those damn ‘Niggers’ off the altar, before you ruin this parish.”
He became furious when I challenged him. Retreating to his room, he slammed the door shut. Through that day and the next he avoided all contact with me.
Bishop Hyle, who had just taken over as Bishop of the Wilmington Diocese apparently was unfamiliar with all that was happening in the city. When I went to seek his counsel about how to handle Father Alex’s racist behavior, the bishop’s response to me was, “You keep peace in the rectory!”
On the spot, I made a momentous decision. Standing up, I said, “Bishop, I hereby request to be released from the diocese to serve as a Catholic chaplain in the U.S. Army.” Psalm 56:11 inspired my action: “ In God I put my trust; I will not be afraid what man can do to me.”
The ten years spent on active duty in the military, shepherding the flock of Catholic men and women serving our nation, took me on a new path of priestly ministry.
As a Catholic priest in the U.S. Army, I worked for two of the most powerful organizations in the world: the Roman Catholic Church, headquartered in Rome ; and the United States Government, headquartered in Washington D.C. My faculties as a priest to preach, celebrate the Eucharist, administer sacraments, were now overseen by the Vicar of the Military Ordinariate, who, at that time was Francis Cardinal Spellman and his auxiliary bishops. The Church no longer paid me a salary; the U.S. Government did.
A new dimension of the priesthood began to emerge for me. Under policies and procedures from the Department of Defense, I was not only responsible for the spiritual well being of Catholic soldiers and their families in my unit; but also for Protestants and Jewish soldiers. All of God’s people became my concern, as a true servant of the Lord. Of course, my responsibility did not directly involve me in preaching to all of them. But it was my task to coordinate the time and place for a Protestant minister or Jewish rabbi to take care of the spiritual needs of thier flocks. After all, priests, ministers and rabbis use the same chapel, provided for us by the U.S. Government. We gathered our flocks around the same altar and preached from the same pulpit (at different times, of course), worshiping the One same God, the Creator and Father of us all.
During my ten years on active duty, I had no problems working together with Protestant ministers. When promoted to Major and then Lieutenant Colonel and thereby became supervisor of other chaplains – the majority of whom were Baptist ministers – a new dimension of ministry emerged. Since a priest derives his authority from Christ the Good Shepherd, our Lord’s words guided me in my relationship with Protestant ministers and Jewish rabbis. “Other sheep I have that don’t belong to this fold – them also I must lead, and they will hear my voice. Then there will be one flock and one shepherd,” (John 10:16). Psalm 23 says it clearly, “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.”
Shortly after reporting for active duty, Monsignor William Moran, the Deputy Chief of Chaplains of the United States Army asked me to consider volunteering for Special Forces. That I did at Fort Bragg, North Carolina and became a Green Beret priest. When I returned from my first tour in Vietnam in 1965, Bill Moran was no longer in the Army. He retired as a Brigadier General and was ordained bishop by Cardinal Spellman, to serve as his auxiliary in the Military Ordinariate.
A few years later, after my third tour in Vietnam, I was promoted to head chaplain of the Special Warfare Center at Fort Bragg, with the rank of Lt. Colonel. Troubled by the War, I decided to make a retreat at Saint Mary’s Seminary, my alma mater, in Baltimore, Maryland – to pray and reflect upon what could be done to end the Vietnam War, honorably.
Wearing my green beret and Army uniform with jump boots, I walked from my car to the main entrance. Hateful stares told me I was not welcome, even though a black cassock was draped over my arm.
At dinner that night, I sat at the Gents table next to the rector, still wearing my Army uniform. Father Joe Gallagher, my classmate, who served on the faculty at that time, took a walk with me after dinner. In those days, the campus was filled with hundreds of seminarians. Joe turned to me and said, “Jim, I am losing points, just being seen with you in your soldier’s outfit. Can’t you wear the cassock while you are here?”
Joe Gallagher had accompanied Cardinal Sheehan, the Archbishop of Baltimore and worked with a Jesuit priest, Walter Abbot,. in producing an English translation of THE DOCUMENTS OF VATICAN II.
“Joe, isn’t there a prescript requiring bishops to set up a forum whereby formal, open discussion of pastoral concerns of priests in the diocese can be discussed to resolve conflicting viewpoints?”
“Yes, it’s called a Priests’ Senate.”
At that moment I knew what must be done to resolve the polarized positions that were dividing us, even as priests. Dialogue! Honest discussion! Since all Catholic chaplains in the Army, Navy and Air Force serve under the Military Ordinariate, my challenge was to stir up interest in getting a Priest Senate. Then we could explain to fellow priests, protesting the war, why we were in Vietnam.
Many months later, The Most Reverend William J. Moran sent me a letter, on official stationery of the Military Ordinariate, dated July 15, 1969 which began:
“Dear Jim, this is just an informal, personal and chatty note. At the time of the Cardinal’s reception for the priests and chaplains up at Dunwoodie last 20 May it seemed to me that you engendered considerable discussion about a Priests’ Senate in the Military Ordinariate. In the excitement and rushing around of the occasion I was not quite sure, and …. we have heard reports that you continue to push these discussions. Now, mind you, we are in no way opposed to Priests’ Senates. As a matter of fact, we are all for them. After all, they have been suggested and encouraged by Vatican Council II, and I feel that they have their place in almost every regularly established Diocese in the world. However, our ‘sources’ have become somewhat perturbed, if not confused, and so I thought I would write you…….”
The rest of the letter made it clear that I should drop the idea of a Priests’ Senate for the Military Ordinariate.
What is the bishop afraid of? I wondered. Firmly resolved to find out, I telephoned Bishop Moran and made an appointment to meet with him at Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn, New York.
The meeting did not go well. When the bishop told me there definitely would not be a Priests’ Senate at the present time I asked, “Why?”
As it turned out the underlying reason for the bishop’s fear was that we might stir up a movement seeking changes in the law of celibacy. Obviously, Catholic chaplains in the military could easily afford to support a wife and family, without any financial burden to the Church.
A dedicated priest does not want to leave the active ministry. So, I put aside the idea, hoping for Church leaders to see the wisdom of making celibacy an option.
Yet, the reluctance of Church leaders to deal with the truth about the Vietnam War, and other critical issues, infuriated me.
While stationed at U.S. Army Chaplain School at Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn – the same place where Bishop Moran had quashed my hopes for honest dialogue about the war, I decided to take a bold step – and an honest one.
Pope Paul VI approved my laicization and Maureen and I received the Sacrament of
Matrimony. Signing the petition to be dispensed from celibacy, an obligation imposed by a prescript of a Church Council, was repugnant to me. No longer would I be allowed to function licitly as a priest. Thus sayest Rome!
However, since the Pentagon had inducted me into the Regular Army, I could not be discharged, except for dereliction of duty. Thus declared the U.S. Government!
The two largest organizations in the world were at odds about what to do with me as a married priest – still on active duty, but unable to fulfill my priestly ministry. Refusing to resign my commission in the U.S. Army, I petitioned the Military Ordinariate to grant me an appointment with Cardinal Cooke. The conflict could easily be resolved by the Church allowing me to function as a married deacon. That request was ignored. Instead the Church forced me into resigning my commission as a Regular Army officer.
A few years later, I joined the Army Reserves as an enlisted soldier. Upon mandatory retirement, at age 60, by Army Rules and Regulations, I reverted back to my highest held rank (Lt. Colonel). Officially, since then I have been able to function as a retired U.S. Army chaplain, with all rights and privileges.
Maureen and I now live near Patrick AFB in central Florida, where numerous officers and enlisted military families have retired. Today, I am the volunteer chaplain of several organizations, most importantly the local Cape Canaveral chapter of Military Officers Association of America, which has over 1,800 members. Giving invocations, conducting memorial services, writing a chaplain’s column for the monthly newsletter, I have become widely known as the married Green Beret priest.
But my greatest source of fulfillment is the Interdenominational Christian Congregation that I now serve in a gated community, known as Indian River Colony Club. Yes, I am the pastor of a small flock of about a hundred retired military officers. Every Sunday morning we gather around an altar to celebrate the mystery of Christ in our lives. Not only are the men and women there, former generals , admirals and officers in the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, and Coast Guard; but the folks in the congregation, all baptized, belong to various denominations, including: Roman Catholic, Lutheran, Episcopal, Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian and other Christian sects. We are a loyal group, faithful to God and one another, as we strive to live productive lives. My favorite theme centers around Christ’s message “I am the vine and you are the branches.”(John 15:5)
Sometimes people ask, “Under which denominational flag do you serve?”
My answer: “The Christian flag; I work directly for the Boss.”
Since I take no salary and Colony Hall, where we meet, is common property owned by residents, the Board of Directors of Indian River Colony Club do not charge for rental, utilities or maintenance. Because expenses are minimal, practically all money collected at Worship and Eucharistic services are donated to local agencies that feed the hungry and homeless. For funerals and weddings, I receive a stipend.
The time I spend each week in sermon preparation is much more than I ever did during seven years as a parish priest or the ten years serving as an Army chaplain. Also my behavior has improved immensely. Maureen encourages me to practice what I preach.
Today I might not live in a rectory. But Maureen calls herself, the “rectory maid.” The phone rings when God’s people call needing a priest. Life is so much more fulfilling when Christ, the Good Shepherd is the Master we serve. What Jesus wants us to do He made clear on the night before the crucifixion, when he prayed that we all may be one. . . that we may be made perfect in unity. . . John17: 21-23
