Ayo Fasoro

Non Sum Dignus.

 

A man in his seventies collapses in his apartment and slips into unconsciousness. The neighbour, a lay leader in the local Church hurriedly summons the parish priest. Together, they decide to ferry the old man to the nearest Catholic hospital some forty minutes away. Going in and out of consciousness, he arrived at the hospital. Within minutes, the hospital administrator, a priest, arrived to observe the treatment provided. Two priests left their rectories on a late Saturday evening to ensure that a lay person was cared for. They were preparing for the next day’s Sunday Masses at their parishes and at the outstations when the call for assistance came.

There was this not so young, yet not so old, priest who had served the Church with all his talents, heart, and mind. At the arrival of a new Bishop, he gave his total obedience to the successor of his former Bishop. But then he became tired, he examined his actions, his steps, and his missteps. He was also nursing an ailment.

 An old layman reached out to him following years of gap in communication brought about by a disagreement.

Man and priest spoke at length. They talked for hours, priest filling in on the years that have gone by, of the tangible developments and of the painful disappointments. The priest longed for a return to harmony in place of discord, of bridging undesirable gaps. He outlined steps he thought needed to be taken; he solicited cooperation and collaboration, all for the good of the Church.

When it was time for the old man to depart, the priest followed him to the car. Man sat in his car, priest stood by the car. It had started to drizzle, but priest did not return to his rectory; he did not enter the car; he stood in the drizzling rain; talking more about his joys, his pains, and his hope. He was relieved by the opportunity to share with one who had known him since his seminary days; one whom the priest had assisted tremendously over the years; one who had been part of his priestly journey.

It was close to midnight when the old man finally left. They never spoke again.

There was a young priest. He was a missionary priest serving far away from home, enthusiastic about his vocation and about the joys of exposure to a new culture. He learned the local language and was always eager to exercise his limited grasp; he ate the local food and delighted in making friends.

He shared his congregation’s challenges with his lay friend. They worked together, and the result was the takeover of a fledging parish, the construction of a bigger Church building, and the establishment of their religious house in that parish. His congregation was happy; the diocese was pleased; the people of God in that parish are served. All to the glory of God.

But the young priest from another land was troubled. He entertained second thoughts about his vocation, primarily related to his view of the Church hierarchy’s oversized engagement with administration as against spirituality. He came from a culture where physical development and overall temporal resources were fully established and guaranteed for centuries. He was serving in an area where the Church was not yet so.

The debate continued until he left on another posting. He stayed in touch, but his doubts did not depart from him. He finally left the priesthood but remained in contact with his old friend who invited him back to the country, to a warm reception wherever he went.

 

To be continued….