James Kavanaugh, 28 Years Later

How the words of one radical priest remain as true today.

For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves. James Kavanaugh, There are Men to Gentle to Live among Wolves.

James Kavanaugh, poet, priest, author, and philosopher, died in December of 2009. He was 81 years old. He once served as priest on the North side of Flint, MI, my hometown. He was not the kind of priest that would look down on people of color. He was a ahead of his time. He left the priesthood after 13 years and later married, I think more than once.

His book, A Modern Day Priest Looks at His Outdated Church, sold millions of copies, as did one on Poetry. His book challenged the Church to consider words to shocking to hear. Some of his words are beautiful, some difficult, some even painful. Some words I affirm and embrace, others I dismiss and even reject. Some words reflect profound truths, others are filled with anger. Either way, his words were not meant to go away. Not the ones that continue to speak to us today. While the Church he describes in his book in many ways is no longer around, in other ways it is still with us.

Jim was a fascinating man with an education and intelligence far superior to the average person. He was an amazing writer. His story is too grand to fully capture here.

According to one obituary: “Jim wrote 28 books during his career as a writer, including a dozen books of poetry. Jim also taught a variety of workshops, taught at various universities, performed at numerous poetry readings, and was on all the talk shows — even The Tonight Show.

People found Jim fascinating as he was extremely passionate about his beliefs, highly educated, and not afraid to share what was on his mind. While Jim was dating Suzanne Sommers he wrote her first book, Touch Me, in just one weekend. This book sparked the beginning of Suzanne’s writing career. While in California Jim did some work for PBS and some stage work, ran a publishing company, and traveled in the same circles as many celebrities. He remained in California until 1992, at which time he moved to Chicago just prior to the death of his mother.”

I include his thoughts on the 25th Anniversary of the publication of his book cited above, first published in 1967. He wrote these words 28 years ago, in 1992. What stands out for me is not how he and I differ in our experiences and worldview, but how so much of what he writes I can call my own.

So here it is:

When I ended my lecture at Notre Dame University in October of 1967, I had summed up the core of my conflict with the Catholic Church. The compassion and love of Jesus were by time and fear converted to authority, law, and guilt. I had not yet decided to leave the priesthood, but before the end of the talk, I knew that I must, I announced my resignation, and tears stored since early childhood flowed unashamedly. It was an honest dialogue, and the audience roared approval for several minutes, approval of what they already felt. The next week a full page ad appeared in the New York Times from the Notre Dame Alumni Association, saying that reports of enthusiastic approval were untrue. My publisher offered me a half page ad to reply on October 16, 1967.

I am resigning from the Catholic priesthood in personal protest against the refusal of the hierarchy of the institutional church to bring about reform. I can no longer wear the collar nor accept the title of “Father” when the institution I represent can cut off from communion the divorce and remarried, can refuse to admit its error in the matter of birth control, can ignore the plea of priests for marriage, can continue to reduce the principles of Christ to instruments of fear and guilt. I cannot continue to be identified with a power structure that permits only token changes while the screams of millions are not heard.

My personal protest began almost six years ago. Since then, I have spoken out in every way possible, in the arena of professional theology, before groups of priests, at student gatherings, in magazines and newspapers, on radio and TV, and in a widely circulated book, A Modern Priest Looks at His Outdated Church. Now I know that the institution and its hierarchy will not listen. I will continue to write, to speak, to fight for the reform of my Church, but I will not be identified with the leadership of a frequently dishonest, frightened, and unchristian institution. I believe that institution is dying and I will begin now to struggle for the rebirth of the Church. I will continue to search for God and meaning, to aid others in that search, to serve God as a free and honest man.

When I wrote those words twenty-five years ago, I had no idea how long and painful would be my personal search for God. There was a time I regretted my Catholic childhood and the years of seminary and priesthood. I felt betrayed and victimized. Now I try to believe that every step along the way is part of God’s plan. It does not matter whether I left the priesthood or not, whether I remained a Catholic or followed another path. It only matters that I follow my own inner guide as best I can, and trust that in that process I will find my true identity and personal God. They are the same.

The journey is no different for the primitive in an Amazon rain forest or the Pope in Rome. Each of us is part of the whole, none better or worse, more or less. Our commitment to the light that is given us is our covenant with the universe. Whatever increases our compassion, extends our forgiveness, and ends our judgements of ourselves or others is of God. Some find their way early in life and never seem to deviate. Others like myself seemed compelled and guided to explore the far reaches of heaven and earth. As once I wrote:

I left my traditions on the far side of the foggy hill.

And I will stay away until I can return in sunshine

Rescued from them,

Free to choose which are really mine.

Jesus said the very hairs of our head is numbered, that every least detail of life has its purpose. There are no “mortal” sins, only mistakes to correct, doubts and fears to resolve, new directions to take that often are very painful. But pain can lead soon or finally to patient suffering, and patient suffering to surrender and resurrection. When I am afraid, I know I am relying solely on my own strength. When I judge or refuse to forgive, I know I am he who remains condemned and unforgiven. It was not my destiny to remain a priest, not to accept another’s truth as mine, but twenty-five years have taught me that the church is only as trapped in fear as I have been.

When can I admit my own wounds and slowly begin to heal, I can look upon the Church without rancor, knowing what it can be, what it must be to come back to the fullness of life. The hierarchy is afraid and cautious when it must be bold. Passion grows stagnant save in scattered pockets. A great, historic structure for hope and healing, creativity and culture lies dormant like a dying shepherd when millions are starving for spiritual pasture and screaming for another way to live. It was Einstein who said that, “Loyalty to petrified opinion never broke a chain or freed a human soul.”

The Church must return to the pastoral focus of Jesus. There are hungry to be fed, naked to be clothed, despairing to find hope, aged to be cherished, and hearts of every faith or none to be revered and taught. It was said that Jesus “went about doing good” and the masses flocked to him to escape hoarded human legalities made divine. Such “good” must again be the focus of the Church. Not sin or celibacy, abortion or sex, prosperity or tithing, nor an inlfallible claim on truth! Not hell and salvation or a patriarchal past denying women’s equality! Joy and service must be the focus, not guilt and punishment.

Then the Church will reward passion and bold leadership, no matter the personal cost, will not board up its buildings, but open up its eyes and heart to the hunger and longing of a world in pain. The “Spirit of God” that in the beginning was midwife to the universe, that once burst into tongues of fire in every language to renew the earth, and that at this instant inhabits every least atom of creation, can raise a dying shepherd to even greater life. Not through sluggish and token reform, but through the inner wisdom and courage that beckons each of us to a personal and healing transformation.

Twenty-five year later.”

James Kavanaugh