Priests, Nuns, and Widowers

 There has been a critical shortage of priests in the Catholic Church for  decades. Various reasons are suggested, but one obvious one is that young men are reluctant to make a long-term or life-long commitment to celibacy. 

Non-Catholics are quick to criticize this restriction as unreasonable and unnatural. Yet many of the same people, especially family members, do not hesitate to suggest the same restriction on widows and widowers. As I understand Catholic doctrine, a priest or nun is "married" to the Church. In a similar way, widowed folks are urged to let the Lord fill the void in their lives.

That approach has worked for some widows who have testified, "Jesus is now my husband." Well, I can only speak as one widower: that doesn't work for me! I'm a guy. I have even dared to disagree with Charles Spurgeon's spiritualized interpretation of the Song of Solomon when he suggests that Jesus is our husband. Jesus is the Bridegroom of the Church collectively, not of believers individually. (Spurgeon gets around the obvious problem of Jesus' relationship with male believers by saying our Lord is the lover of our soul, which Spurgeon apparently viewed as feminine.)

The apostle Paul seems to urge a life of celibacy on widowed folks in First Corinthians 7:8, but in the previous verses he clearly states that this is his opinion, not a command, and that "each one has his own gift from God" (v. 7). Regarding celibacy, Jesus told his disciples, "All cannot accept this saying, but only those to whom it has been given" (Mark 19:11). 

I can only speak as one lonely widower, but I am confident that most fellow widowers and not a few widows share my experience: I find this life of forced celibacy to be a daily trial! An old song by Paul Anka comes to mind: 

"I don't like to sleep alone,

It's sad to think some folks do." 

Another verse goes: 

"Loneliness can get you down,

When you get to thinking no one cares." 

So I muddle through each day doing what has to be done. I get a few opportunities to minister God's Word to folks, which gives me a sense of purpose. But after each happy encounter, I'm back to my loneliness. And then comes the dreaded evening. That's when Linda and I would relax and talk, watch an old movie cuddled together on our loveseat. (How appropriately named is that piece of furniture!) Now I sit alone. And I climb into that big bed alone. I never feel as alone as I do then.

So who can be surprised that young men don't wish to commit themselves to priestly celibacy for the rest of their lives? I dread the thought of celibacy for the rest of this year!