The following story will shock and disturb you. It sounds incredible but it was told to me by a very reliable person. Otherwise I would not written about it here.
We think that we know everything about each other. But in spite of all the care, solidarity or zekzik, a woman lived in a house for 25 years and no one knew- Fr Joe Borg
A few weeks ago a man, who was quite old, died in a town in the north of Malta. His neighbours had known him for many years. He was a quiet man who lived on his own. Or so they thought.
A day or two after the funeral, a woman, who seems to be in her 40s, was seen coming out of his house. Who was she? asked the curious neighbours. She was seen carrying some shopping bags into the house. Shopping for whom?they asked.
Little by little the neighbours came to know the woman had been living in that house for the past 25 years. In her late teens or very early 20s she ran into some trouble with her parents and found refuge in the house of this man. She ended up staying in his house for two decades. Apparently no one else knew.
I do not know why she never left. Neither do I know what her relationship with the house’s official tenant was. I am not privy to what she is doing now. I know one thing: none of the neighbours had the faintest idea that besides the old man there was this quite young woman living there with him.
Some years ago I blogged the story of a woman I thought I knew. Together with her husband and her children, she was part of the furniture in our parish. I lost contact when they went to live in a different town. One day she resurfaced.She phoned asking for an appointment.
I was astounded when she told me she was leaving her husband. Then she dropped the bombshell telling me she had been an abused wife. Psychological and physical violence were the order of the day throughout her married life. The sad story went on and on. One heartbreaking incident followed another. It seemed to be a never-ending series. Now that her children were married and settled she had decided to start a new life without her husband and tormentor.
A friend of mine told me the story of a high profile woman married to a high profile man. She had told my friend the most horrible thing that ever happened to her was the first time her husband beat her. The abuse went on, till she finally mustered enough courage and left him.
We believe we are a tightly-knit society. We think that we know everything about each other. But in spite of all the care, solidarity or zekzik, a woman lived in a house for 25 years or so and no one knew! ‘Emily’ came to church every day and was active in several parish activities but no one knew she was daily going through Calvary. The high profile woman endured her tragedy in silence for years.
The harsh reality is that we do not know what happens behind closed doors! And in spite of all the rose-tinted, romantic words when describing our families, the truth of the matter is that there is the beast beside the beauty.
We can deny it as much as we want, but the beast is there. We can judge people as much as we want basing ourselves on the public lie that these victims are forced to live (this is not clear). Judging others is always wrong. We can close our ears when the noise of the abuse intrudes on our ideal picture of family life. We can look the other way when we see the bruised faces.
We can run away from reality and keep on telling fairy tales about our families.
The beast is there. It just gets nastier. Does it have to beat us too before we notice?
• In three weeks’ time I will be attending my PhD graduation. It’s quite a milestone in one’s career. At 61, someone may justifiably tell me that it’s about time!
On Tuesday, on the other hand, I will be commemorating another and much more significant, milestone: the 35th anniversary of my priestly ordination.
Both milestones are important but for very different reasons.
The first is something I can boast of (if boasting is of any consequence) because it is something I did on my own steam using my talents. It was the result of a lot of hard work and elbow grease. The second is a completely different kind of milestone. Priesthood is pure gift. Like all gifts it is given free. You can refuse it. You can stop taking care of it and risk losing it. You cannot earn it. The hard work involved is to hang on to it and not to receive it.
This gift is not given to the individual for the exclusive benefit of the individual. It is a gift given to the individual for the sake of the community. If you are not a priest for others, you are not a priest. Full stop. This is the litmus test. The more time a priest has for others the more time the priest has for God and vice versa.
A priest is not a priest because of personal achievements. He is not a priest because he is the wisest, or the holiest in his community. On the contrary, we are priests in spite of the many mistakes we make and sins we commit.
Every day at the beginning of the Mass we proclaim to the community that we have sinned. One is a priest in spite of himself and not because of himself.
If we are wise enough we give a positive spin to the sins we commit. We can tell others: look at this God of ours. He loves us so madly that He even lets a miserable sinner like yours truly be one of His ministers.
Being a priest is much more than acting in a particular way. It is a way of being more than just a particular way of behaving. Quite naturally the ‘doing’ part should follow the‘being’ part.
This way the ‘being’ can be expressed in so many different ways and manners. One is not only a priest when one celebrates Mass – though that is a most powerful and defining moment – but one is also a priest in ‘secular’ work e.g. teaching, research, media, etc. Quite naturally translating these ‘secular’ activities into a priestly ministry presents challenges.
I am thankful for these 35 years of priesthood, warts and all. I thank the Lord for being so generous to me. I also thank the ecclesial community for accepting and loving me notwithstanding my limitations.