I was divorced in February 2002. From my baptism at 18 years of age I'd been a nominal Catholic at best, living life on my own terms with very little concern for what the Vatican had to say. Although I identified as Catholic, my behavior and attitudes were decidedly pagan/secular. My wife and I had been married civilly, before a Justice of the Peace. As with most legal marriages in the U.S.A., things fell apart. We separated, and finally divorced, with a child between us.
I'll avoid reliving the bleak cyclone of the grieving process (which few people actually care about anyway.) It suffices to say that I survived the darkness that many men are forced to confront alone when their spouse abandons them. It was at that point in my life that God led me to the priest who would catalyze a profound change in my outlook, Fr. Erik J. Richtsteig.
At first, I didn't like him. He was a rigid, tradition-bound, stick in the mud. I mainly attended his parish because I needed a place to call home and I'd been invited by an acquaintance who was a parishioner there. Usually, what he had to say went in one ear and out the other. After all, I was an adult. I knew best how to live my life in relation to my subjective circumstances, and this quaint anachronism of a priest was just sorely misinformed about the world. Sooner or later he would be transferred, hopefully replaced with a priest who was more in touch with the modern world. In the mean time, I could try to open his mind.
Such was my mindset one fine spring weekend around 2005 when Fr. Richtsteig went on retreat. He left his parish in the capable hands of his friend, Fr. Pius of Mount Angel Seminary. That weekend happened to be particularly bleak and trying for me. When I went in "just to talk" to this unfamiliar Benedictine, I didn't have an inkling that my true conversion would begin that day. That talk turned into a good, honest confession. I don't recall what he said, but I do remember its deep impression. I began to question all that I thought I knew--about life, about the Church, and about the world. One day while praying the Peace Prayer attributed to St. Francis of Assisi, I was powerfully struck by the words "Oh Divine Master, grant that I may never seek so much...to be understood as to understand..." I realized that I didn't have any understanding of Father's point of view. With that in mind, I began to listen. I began to read. I began to understand--and what I understood, shocked me.
Fr. Richtsteig was teaching the authentic doctrine of the Catholic Faith.
Almost everything I thought I knew about Catholicism post-Vatican II was wrong! It was I who was in error. My ideas and behavior that needed to be realigned. If I was to continue to be Catholic, my submission to the teaching authority of Holy Mother Church was mandated. Steadily, I began to bring myself into conformity with the Church.
That was almost ten years ago, and I have no cause to regret my decision. I can honestly say that my life has improved. The existential angst that compelled me to go to Mass-as-group-therapy when I was stumbling about in the darkness has been truly resolved, through the simple act of submission. It started with an increase of faith (the virtue by which we intellectually submit to a revealed truth, which we may not understand fully) and cultivating honest humility. In my case, this meant becoming familiar with the words "I don't know." It meant overcoming the erroneous idea that "knowing something in my heart" made it true, even where what I "knew" contradicted a revealed truth of the Faith.
Here we come to the crux of the matter. The German bishops seem to think almost unanimously that the Church should conform to the world, particularly regarding Catholics who have been civilly divorced and civilly remarried without obtaining an annulment from the Church. That was once my view, and it was wrong. It remains wrong, even if those who hold such a view are bishops. It might seem unfair to deny those Catholics full participation in the Sacraments. It might seem more loving and compassionate to simply change. But I can honestly attest to you, Excellencies, that you would be doing all of those people a grave disservice in the long run. They would know that you simply caved in to circumstance; how then could they trust anything you say? Where might I be if Fr. Pius had simply patted me on the head and given me a cookie? (Metaphorically speaking.) I was on the road to Hell, Excellencies. I thank God that Fr. Pius cared enough about my soul to point that out to me and call me to repentance, in such a way that I heard what he was saying. I pray that you will all do the same; only good could come of it.
