Catholic and Gay: My Journey into Roman Catholic Priesthood and Out of the Closet

By Charles Benedict

What if the choice you made eighteen years ago turned out to be wrong?

In this unprecedented memoir, Charles shares the confusion he felt growing up as he wrestled with his sexuality and his desire to become a Roman Catholic Priest. Follow the journey of a man who devoted the first thirty-three years of his life and studies to serve the Church, only to discover the life he idolized and the beliefs he taught conflicted with the hidden secret of his life that kept him from accepting his true self and potential.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Purple Spekter™ LLP Press
• Release date: Nov 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386369684

Charles Benedict

Charles Benedict, like so many who identify within the LGBTQI community, grew up in a religious family that made it seem like he didn’t belong or fit in because something was wrong with him. When his parents discovered he had a secret boyfriend at sixteen, Charles denied he was gay, giving into strong fears of rejection and disappointing those he loved. He lied to the world and buried his sacred truth deep inside his soul. Yet in reality, there was nothing wrong with Charles to begin with. Fourteen years passed before he accepted his homosexuality and came out—nearly four years after he had been ordained a Roman Catholic Priest. Unable to hide the gift of who God made him to be, Charles voluntarily left priesthood and rebuilt his life from the ground up, discovering the much happier man within. Today, after several rough years, Charles is happily married to his wonderful husband and has supportive friends and family to share his life with. Though he is proud—yet nervous—to share his memoirs with you, he wants everyone who struggles with their sexuality to know that even though it took him thirty-three years to love himself, the truth set him free. He hopes you always have the courage to be who you are today, and no matter what any religion says, God loves you.

Book preview

Catholic and Gay

My Journey into Roman Catholic Priesthood and Out of the Closet

Charles Benedict

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DBL Books / Purple Spekter™ LLP | Press

Catholic and Gay

My Journey into Roman Catholic Priesthood and Out of the Closet

Copyright © 2017 Charles Michael Benedict

All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior consent of the Author, except for brief quotes used in reviewsz

Privacy

This is an autobiographical story. I have recreated events, locales, and conversations from my memories of them. To maintain anonymity and protect the privacy of individuals/the innocent, I have altered and obscured the names of individuals and places. I may have also changed some identifying characteristics and details such as physical properties, occupations, and settings. I used a pseudonym for publication purposes because this book deviates from my planned writing path of LGBT and science fiction books.

Edition

1.0 – June 6, 2017

1.1 – June 28, 2017 | Fixed corrupted manuscript issues (including Gremlin typos)

2 – November 9, 2017 | Retitle and publishing shifts

2.1 – Apr 30, 2018 | Duplicate chapter fix

2.2 – Apr 3, 2019 | Slew of missed typos fixed; Thanks, John

Cover Image(s)

Digital and Paperback Front: Santa Maria del Mar, Barcelona

Paperback Back: Notre Dame Cathedral, Paris

To all who have yet to find the courage to be themselves.

Contents

Part I • In the Beginning

1. To Write, or Not to Write

2. Growing Up Catholic

3. The Seeds of Vocation

4. Different Strokes

5. Elementary School

6. The Not-so-Catholic Neighborhood

7. Junior High School

8. The Sears Catalogue

Part II • High School Days

9. Working at the Cathedral Rectory

10. Sentinel High School

11. Best Friends

12. My High School Jobs

13. Master of Ceremonies

14. Disaster Strikes

15. Visiting a Seminary

16. Applying to College

Part III • College Days

17. Cancer Strikes

18. Ah, College!

19. A Different Charles for Everyone

20. Retired Priests

21. Working Out

22. Reconnected I

23. Space Mission Bible Camp

24. Palanca | July 20, 1998

25. Personal Mission Statement

26. Steubenville East I

27. A Letter to My Son | July 15, 1999

28. Catholic and Gay I

29. All the Single Ladies

30. Applying to Seminary

31. Flaming Flaggots

32. A Letter to My Son | July 20, 2000

33. Necessary Delays

Part IV • Seminary Daze

34. Welcome to Saint Martin of Tours

35. How Seminary Works

36. Summer Assignments

37. The Circus of Celibacy

38. False Nostalgia for a Bygone Era

39. Kicking Back

40. My Father's Death

41. Unwelcome Changes

42. Now Departing from Gate A1

43. Predator vs Alien

44. Catholic and Gay: II

45. Now Departing, My Classmates

46. Unexpected Song

47. Reconnected II

48. Denial isn't a River

49. Scandaloso!

Part V • Ordinations (Diaconate & Priesthood)

50. The Comedy of Errors Road Trip

51. Diaconate Ordination

52. Diaconate Summer Assignment

53. Priesthood Ordination

Part VI • Priesthood

54. My First Mass

55. Seven Weeks

56. Moving Day

57. My First Funeral

58. It's God's Money

59. The New Secretary

60. Father What-A-Waste

61. Protecting God's Children

62. The Thong Song

63. Father, This Isn't Your Frat House

64. Steubenville East II

65. Life Teen

66. Priestly Dinners

67. The Musical Chairs of Music at Mass

68. Brokeback Priest

69. Deliverance

70. Demon House

71. The Playing Field

72. Healing Prayer for Me

73. On Being Alone

74. Jägermeister, the Pulpit, and the Wallpaper Shenanigans

75. Xbox Golf

76. Space Monkey

77. A Day in The Life

78. When Bad Things Happen to Good People

79. Merger Planning

80. Practice What You Preach

Part VII • Transitioning out of Priesthood

81. Deterioration

82. The Beginning of the End

83. Exodus

84. Hiding Under Their Noses

85. Get a Job, You Bum

86. Chicago

87. The Family Shame

88. I'm Not the Only One

89. Part VIII • Rediscovering Myself

90. Laicization Process

91. Letter to the Pope

92. Reconnected III

93. News from Rome

94. Letter from the Vatican

95. Catholic and Gay: III

96. Priesthood in the Family

97. The Last Grandparent

98. In Closing

Before you go…

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Part I • In the Beginning

1

To Write, or Not to Write

It’s been nine years since I left active ministry as a Roman Catholic priest. Since then, I’ve fallen in love several times, held a few jobs, and tried to write this book three times. When I reflect on the forty years of my life, I smile. It’s been an interesting journey—one few people experience—and I can’t wait to share it with you.

The first instance of this book began as a vengeful retaliation against all things Church because I was so angry at God. After giving my life to the Church, I discovered what I thought I wanted—what God wanted for me—was not for me. Growing up, I had followed so much advice about how to become a priest—all the while sacrificing myself by not allowing my dreams to express themselves.

The first book I planned to write exposed Church life for what it was and show the world something it had never seen before, riding on the sensationalism of the nasty clergy abuse scandal. However, every time I sat down to write the scathing chronicle, I couldn’t—because that wasn’t my experience of Church. Since my angry façade was not authentic to who I was and did not reflect my experience as a priest, I tabled the book idea until I could work through and resolve my anger. I still needed to do plenty of internal processing and address personal questions I could only answer from a calm, peaceful place. I was still transitioning out of a church-focused worldview to a broader, open worldview filled with questions:

Where did I go wrong?

What failed me? Who failed me?

Who, in their right mind, would seriously torture themselves with eleven years of school to live a life they subconsciously did not want to live?

Did I make the right decision to leave the priesthood?

Should I go back?

What if I had been honest and come out at sixteen-years-old in 1992? (Eek!)

How many times did I study, prepare, and preach about being authentic, true, and a person of integrity to the gathered faithful at Mass? Why did I ignore that burning message in my heart?

Why was I supposed to be a priest for almost four years?

Why was priesthood part of my life’s journey?

Why, in seminary, was I so terrified to leave it all behind, before ordination, and avoid this larger mess?

Though some of the questions have been answered, others remain unanswered. You’ll find the answers scattered throughout the pages of this book. I was, and still am, discovering who I am, what I’m supposed to be, and how I will contribute to humanity. It’s not that I didn’t know; there were notions and ideas sprinkled throughout my life, but I dismissed them as incompatible with what I thought I was supposed to do and be. When I left ministry, an entirely new life opened and I tried to step forward with care and not rush into everything.

Before I left active ministry, my mentor and pastor, Fr. Nathan, insulted me by stating: You’re like a twelve-year-old-boy who doesn’t know what he wants to do. Though rude, his assessment of my heart was correct. I had focused eighteen years of my life on one goal: to become a Roman Catholic priest. Along the way, I dismissed, ignored, or buried other ideas or career paths. When I left ministry, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, but for the first time I chose to be me.

The second instance of this book began as an action-packed journey through charismatic or deliverance ministry healing, an aspect of my priesthood that was both amazing and scary. Though I knew skeptics would rise to debunk it, there I was in the midst of it, fighting off demons and bringing God’s healing to people. I knew a sensational story could grab readers in an era filled with paranormal books about vampires and other sorcery, but I struggled with the concept and point of this book because it didn’t address the right thing. I tabled the book once more, thinking I would abandon the project.

Several years ago, before I met my husband, I resurrected the writing scraps of outlines from the second version of my book and tweaked them. Unfortunately, I put the scraps away because I couldn’t figure out how to tell my story.

Finally, in 2017, a free and peace-filled Charlie opened his old notes and took a fourth stab at writing the stories and experiences that swirled around his mind.

Charlie—that’s me. My name is Charles Michael Benedict. This is the story of my life in and out of the priesthood; a journey of self-discovery over the past forty years. It is the story of a man who set out to do something great with his life, only to discover that the means to the end weren’t for him. It’s the story of significant change, adjustment, discovery, and refocus. It’s an emotional journey of sorrow, loneliness, and fear, juxtaposed with joy, fulfillment, and peace.

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Today, I’m in love with and married to an amazing man whose eyes and smile bring joy to my heart every time I see him. I have supportive friends and an accepting family though it’s been a rough journey. Over the past few years, I discovered a much happier me. Not just a superficial happy, but holistic happiness that runs deep in my heart. I am no longer angry or vengeful toward the Church or God. A few years ago, I voluntarily completed the laicization process, or the formal process of relinquishing all priestly responsibilities and it brought me peaceful closure. Today, I am not a religious person, but I am a spiritual person—a phrase that would have made me cringe as a priest. For whatever reason, God called me called to be a priest and I served his people as best I could. I am at peace with God, and I am ready to share this unique journey with you.

You should know the stories in this book are real. I believe they speak for themselves, so I did not embellish them for the sake of sensationalism or reader astonishment. There’s always a danger of offending people when writing non-fiction (or fiction). So, I write with no malicious intent. There is no libel in this book.

That said, the perceptions about people and situations are mine as I understood them, good or bad. Still, I changed all names and places in the book, and sometimes, altered the circumstances to protect identities. Also, I will not break the Seal of Confession. This is a serious moral offense, and I honor the sacramental duties I performed as a priest. I will respect the faithful who received God’s forgiveness through this holy sacrament I exercised in faithfulness.

I also want to be clear and state this is not a book about the clergy scandals, pedophilia, or victimhood. I was never touched inappropriately or mistreated as a boy or teenager by any clergy or church worker, ever. My life, growing up Catholic, was fun and enjoyable. Good people surrounded me and made up the parish membership. I have my parents to thank for that because they monitored what was going on in my and my brother’s lives.

As I move through the story of my life, you’ll find collections of anecdotes woven into descriptive narrative that provides context and continuity. Sometimes, it made sense to share a smaller story, while in others, it made sense to write a longer narrative. I hope that this collective work will paint a picture of my life, in and out of priesthood. Though I’ve tried to maintain chronological accuracy, it wasn’t always possible—so some stories remain timeless. I’ve also noticed throughout the editing process that the earlier stories in this book are less exciting, while the more recent stories contain more detail. I think this is because I remember the more recent stories better. There is also a significant number of fake names in this book; using proper nouns or titles was too boring. The names you need to know will be repeated often enough with their roles so they are easily remembered from chapter to chapter.

Okay, let’s dive into the crazy journey of my life.

2

Growing Up Catholic

My first memory of life—at least, tied to a religious moment—has me sitting on my mother’s lap in the backyard of our home as she taught me the words to the popular prayer known as the Our Father . I was two or three years old and I remember little else from that period. My next memories are from Saint Barbara Pre-School, and then kindergarten at Saint Isidore of Seville Catholic Elementary School.

Ever since I was a little boy, I thought I wanted to be a Roman Catholic priest. I remember borrowing the hymnals and practicing Mass with my brother in both French and English. My religious family was very involved in church or parish life and it seemed the natural thing to do, I suppose. My extended family includes several priests and nuns scattered across the country and Canada. Today though, most have been called home to God. We were accustomed to visiting rectories and an occasional convent in Quebec Province. The Church world had become as comfortable to me as an athletic field is to someone on a sports team.

My home church, Saint Polycarp of Smyrna Parish, had two awesome men of God for priests, at least as far back as I can remember: Fr. Quincy and Fr. Hayden. Fr. Quincy, the pastor, was a congenial man who laughed with everyone. Fr. Hayden was the younger spitfire of an associate pastor who was given wide reins by Fr. Quincy to run the parish and slowly update and bring it into the modern age of the Second Vatican Council Church. Outside of my Uncle Eduard, I don’t remember seeing happier priests in my childhood years.

Across the street, the Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus ran a former orphanage-turned-daycare and attended Mass at Saint Polycarp. I knew them, and most of them recognized me. They always said hello to me and my family in English, though usually with a thick French accent.

I remember Mabel, the gregarious woman who always smiled when she greeted you at the entrance of the church building. I think she hugged everyone, too. There was Connor, the eccentric organist, and a host of other faces I can still see to this day. Today, I can still recall all of their smiling faces, each one full of joy and happiness. As a kid, I knew that’s what I wanted to do as a priest: I wanted to run this place of happiness because there was no misery, no bad times, and Saint Polycarp was a great place to be…except for when I had to be still and quiet.

Although Mass itself was boring as a young boy, the moment I could do something about it, I did. In the first grade, I became a junior altar boy. Though we did nothing special like the older altar boys did, as young initiates of the Knights of the Altar we could vest in a simple white cassock, process in with the priest, and sit quietly in designated chairs during Mass. My memory escapes me, but somehow, we could achieve altar boy ranks, and at quarterly meetings of the Knights of the Altar, those who earned a rank were given new pips to wear on the collar of their white cassocks.

Eventually, I was old enough to move away from the white cassock and wear the coveted hooded altar boy robe. In a mock graduation ceremony, we traded in our white cassocks for new albs that proudly displayed our upgraded rank insignia and level of achievement to all the parishioners who attended Mass. It also meant that instead of sitting in the lower sanctuary with nothing to do, we now sat in the upper sanctuary with the priest and did more like: bring the big red book formerly known as the Sacramentary, now known as the Roman Missal, to the priest when he needed it, carry the processional candles, the cross, and of course, ring the bells at the moments of consecration.

Altar boy training, and later, Altar Server training when the American Bishops allowed girls to serve at the altar, was the volunteer duty of my parents. When I was in the fifth or sixth grade, I would assist my parents and stand in for the priest by reciting the lines from the Sacramentary so the trainees could practice. The priest would use this special book for the various prayers he needed to recite throughout the Mass. I loved it! My mom never had to ask twice. If there was Altar Server training to do, I was ready to help.

Exciting, right? It was for me.

Still, if I wasn’t serving Mass that Sunday, church seemed boring. I learned to endure it because I knew it would give way to the best part of church—the after party! It was called Coffee & Donuts, and it was everything a little boy wanted. Everyone enjoyed tasty donuts from a local bakery and drank hot chocolates or coffee. The kids could play around while the adults socialized and discussed the pressing matters of the 1980s.

Sister Alice, a Sister of the Presentation of Mary, served as the sacristan of the parish and took a liking to my family, though in hindsight, I realize she may have been kind to everyone. she seemed to watch out for her Knights of the Altar and always made sure we had clean, ironed cassocks and albs to wear for Mass.

3

The Seeds of Vocation

Many would argue that my religious upbringing and involvement in church life fostered my vocation to priesthood; where it was born and slowly grew, nurtured by the faith community around me—and they would be right. In the secular world, a vocation is a strong feeling of suitability for a particular career or occupation. In the religious world, a vocation is what God calls you to do with your life through a fuller realization of the great commandments: to love the Lord our God, and to love our neighbor.

There are three primary vocations in Catholic theology:

one may serve the Lord as priests or religious (ordained deacons, monks, or nuns),

one may serve the Lord as a husband or wife through the vocation of marriage and family life, and

one may serve the Lord as a single layperson (one who does not marry or pursue a religious vocation).

Whatever your vocation, Catholic theology teaches that following your vocation gives you the most fulfillment and the greatest glory and praise to God. This is what I learned and lived as I believe I was called to the Priesthood of Jesus Christ.

Allow me to explore briefly the three vocations with you. The vocation of single life as a layperson is the path one could achieve if they do not feel called to marriage or religious life. It is also the path the Church dictates appropriate for those with homosexual inclinations. Celibacy is an expectation of the single life vocation. I’ll explain celibacy in the chapter titled The Circus of Celibacy.

The vocation of marriage (husband and wife) is fulfilled by those men and women who discover a deep bond of love for one another. Today, the Church does not support same-sex marriage. In the Church’s eyes, this vocation is not available for men who wish to marry men or women who wish to marry women. Those who can marry within the Church receive the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony.

The vocation of religious life includes the expectation of celibacy for men (monks) and women (nuns). Some monks receive a higher calling and become ordained priests. Ordination to priesthood is when a man receives the Sacrament of Holy Orders. This sacrament is the only sacrament a woman cannot receive in the Catholic Church today. Deacons and priests receive only a portion of Holy Orders, but the bishop receives the fullness of Holy Orders. To further complicate things, there are two kinds of deacons within the church.

First is the vocation of the permanent deacon. This man is ordained a deacon when he does not intend to become an ordained priest. A permanent deacon may be a single or married man, and he holds a portion of the Sacrament of Holy Orders.

Second is the transitional deacon. A man receives this ordination approximately six months to one year prior to his ordination to priesthood. Ordination to the transitional diaconate implies ordination to priesthood—it is a step along the way, so to speak. This man also holds a portion of the Sacrament of Holy Orders.

The priest also holds a portion of the Sacrament of Holy Orders with greater responsibility and authority. His calling is to serve the People of God and preach the gospel to them. At the end of his studies in seminary and approximately six months to a year after his diaconate ordination, a man comes before his bishop and community once more to be ordained a priest.

Priests and religious follow a strict hierarchy of authority and leadership.

Religious men and women serve with the permission of the (local) bishop and/or the Bishop of Rome, or the Pope.

A deacon serves with the permission of the (local) bishop at the side of the priest.

A priest serves with the permission of the (local) bishop and carries out the bishop’s ministry in that diocese, or the territory in which the Bishop manages.

A (local) bishop serves the People of God as the Teacher of the Faith; the fullness of Holy Orders he carries empowers him with the apostolic mission of the Church.

In addition, promises of celibacy and obedience are central to ordination and the responsible transmission of the faith to the People of God.

4

Different Strokes

Immersed in the monotheistic Church and its Tradition, growing up Catholic defined and embodied normality for me. Through observation and listening to the conversations between my parents and grandparents as a child, I learned that differences could be tolerated—but differences were not always good. As a child, I did not discern which differences were more or less acceptable to the family; it was all about which religion you belonged to. Thus, I learned to judge and categorize people based upon their religious affiliation and whether they practiced their faith—meaning attended Sunday Mass or church services somewhere—or did not go to church. Growing up, there were Catholics and (gasp) non-Catholics, such as Protestants. There were also those who didn’t even know Christ (double gasp), such as Hindus and Buddhists.

Though my family was not familiar with the latter two, I knew we stayed away from the suspicious Protestants and we avoided the non-Christians because we didn’t understand them. (I didn’t understand them until several rounds of World Religions classes in college.) But in the 1980s Catholic world my family existed in, they didn’t understand differences weren’t necessarily bad things. To quote Carmine Falcone in Batman Begins, You always fear what you don’t understand.

In terms of differences, I don’t remember my family saying much of anything about race or ethnicity. The 1980s population in Rhode Island was startlingly white. (I didn’t realize this until my seminary days, when I found myself unexpectedly immersed in a world of diverse ethnicities—and as a Caucasian I was the minority.) The only racist