Gareth O'Callaghan: Priests are having affairs — is it really such a shocking fact?

All four of them have the Duchenne smile, a beaming expression that reaches the eyes, making full use of the thousands of tiny muscles in the human face.

Researchers regard the Duchenne as the most authentic expression of happiness.

We’re meeting for coffee in a pub in the south of the country, in a town where no one knows Tom. He has agreed to chat to me provided I never reveal his identity. 

If I’d never met him before that afternoon, I’d have said he was a very happy family man; recounting family moments, deeply invested in his partner and her children. However, Tom has another life far from the cosy surroundings of this quiet country pub.

His parishioners know him as “Father Tom”, their much-loved parish priest of many years. It didn’t come as a shock to me when Tom revealed one night during a phone call that he had “found love” with Mairéad, a woman who had spoken to him about her abusive marriage. 

After a long chat in his parish house, he hugged her after she became upset. “I just knew; when the hug lasted longer than it should have,” he said. “Later she told me she did too.” 

It was obvious from the start of our conversation that this was not a “fling”. If you were to leave aside the not-so-small business of his priesthood vocation, his words were those of a devoted family man.

Mairéad lives a long distance from his active parish life, so it’s as though he can safely assume two different identities without anyone suspecting his duality. He often brings the children to their football training a couple of hours after he celebrates Mass, and then might stop off for dinner with their mother before he returns to don his vestments for a funeral removal that evening.

“Do the children know you’re a priest?” I have to ask him — one of dozens of questions that are crowding out my rational mind; and it has to be said there’s a lot that’s rational about this conversation.

“No. And the eldest lad is making his Communion next year,” he replies in a tone that sounds as though something he’s not looking forward to is coming down the line. 

So will Tom be there on the day?

“God no. I can’t in case other priests recognise me.” 

Religion and relationships

Tom’s dilemma, for want of another word, is far from uncommon. It has been claimed that as many as one in 10 priests in Ireland enjoy regular intimate relationships. 

The numbers could be much greater, as these statistics are based on priests who have admitted to clandestine affairs, or the women who have come forward to tell their stories. But is it really such a shocking fact in this day and age?

Listening to Tom, I’m reminded of that Mary McGregor song from the 1970s called ‘Torn Between Two Lovers’, and that obvious line: “Loving both of you is breaking all the rules”. 

He’s in his 50s, too young to remember the song. He nods his head when I quote the line.

“It’s something I think about every hour of the day. I’m living a lie in the eyes of my peers, but I love my partner, and I also love my vocation. I think knowing what loving a woman is really like makes me more vulnerable in my vocation, and that helps me.” 

What does he mean by vulnerable? 

“I can understand on a real human level other people’s pain when it comes to their own relationships, and how difficult it can be to keep love alive when you’re faced with all the challenges that life is throwing at that vulnerable love that you share.” 

I nodded in agreement with his sentiments. To me he was making sense, and it was refreshing to hear a middle-aged priest talking in such a vulnerable way, but the fact remained: Tom was breaking the rules. I ask him a brutally honest question.

“Is she in love with you, or the priest? Because you can’t be both; or can you?” 

“Both I believe. And yes I can be both. That’s what the apostles were. Many of them had families. Jesus met these men whom he taught and preached to, but he would never have expected them to walk away from their wives and children, would he? I know there’s a line in Luke’s gospel, which says, ‘If you come to me but will not leave your family, you cannot’. I believe that has been taken out of context, like so much of the Bible.” 

Church crisis

Tom believes the fall off in vocations in recent years is because people’s values have changed, and that the church won’t acknowledge that we all have a right to make those changes. He agrees that the abuse scandals that the church persisted in covering up for decades have destroyed its place in society. 

“And that’s precisely why the Pope needs to start making radical changes, not just moving around the deckchairs on the Titanic.

“I watched a priest refuse Communion to a woman standing at the altar recently because she had left her alcoholic husband, and found love with another man, one who was decent and kind to her. Sadly, the church is still riddled with this blinkered hypocrisy.

“Another priest told his congregation, during the funeral of a parishioner who hadn’t attended church for years, that God doesn’t hear the prayers of those who think that visiting an altar once in a blue moon and lighting a candle is a true commitment to their faith.” 

I have never seen any sense in the vow of celibacy. It has always struck me as biologically and emotionally unnatural and can lead to all sorts of mental health problems. So why won’t the Catholic church allow its priests to marry?

“They would like us to believe it’s because we can devote all our time to our vocation if a partner doesn’t come along and distract us. That’s nonsense. The real reason is that they’re terrified that the children of ordained priests would inherit church properties. 

"The Vatican is worth an estimated €15bn. I get paid less than the basic minimum wage. Then you’d have the problem of some priests getting divorced if they’re allowed to marry, just like their parishioners. Marital breakdown in Ireland is a lot higher than we know.” 

Finally, I ask Tom if he would ever consider leaving the priesthood to marry his partner. He shrugs. “Why can’t I be both?” he replies. 

“A good priest and a good husband? I don’t think many believers would disagree with me. I’m only human, just like them."

I’ve been to many meetings, but none quite like this. If I ever needed my beliefs reinforced that the church is in dire straits, then my chat with Tom did just that.

Inner conflict is damaging to every aspect of life unless it can be overcome. No one is insusceptible to our needs to love and be loved, and if it can’t be found through blind faith, then it will be elsewhere. You can only be superhuman for so long.

We shake hands and he leaves, in the company of a doting partner and two children who’d gone shopping while Tom was “at a meeting”. Their giddy chatter and Duchenne smiles lead the way.