Source: Goan Voice UK Daily Newsletter 18 Nov. 2012 at www.goanvoice.org.uk
Full text: They were once a small but core part of the community. Dressed in white and flowing cassocks as they were required to do, they inspired respect, attention, obedience and sometimes awe. Very few milestones in life occurred without their advice, strictures and urging. Children were made to be totally beholden to their commands not only in religious matters but also in other pursuits. Adults were not exempt. A reprimand from a priest and even a hardened village drunkard bent his head and wished him gone. All other people listened to and obeyed them like they did no one else. A wife would care less for her husbands view than that of the priest and though odd in itself, it was the old normal. But not all of them were the ogres that we read about. Some of them were yanked away to the seminary at the raw age of eleven and thereabouts. Little children really, whose hearts were still tender and surely bleeding from separation. Today we would consider their parents and family elders hard-hearted, though love was sometimes a sole motivation. Many families in the Goa of Salazar times were as dirt poor as the rural Portuguese themselves. Sending a son to the priesthood was ensuring that he got a good education and a guaranteed job for life. Comfort was thought to be assured though that ultimately proved to be elusive. Sisters marriages were to become more possible and the familys circumstances a little less harsh. Though much of this was attained, it came at a high personal price for that once-young lad. Prestige to a family with a priest was another motivating factor though this one was more of vanity than necessity. The Portuguese administration gave much weight to the office of the priest and allowed the incumbent to freely ask for a job for a relative, a government permit for a favored parishioner, an exemption from punishment of a minor offence committed by a repentant supplicant. Next to the administration, it was the priests word that counted and on occasions, trumped. I had two maternal uncles who were priests and one could not be more different from the other. The elder was commanding, a man of action, a chaplain with the rank of Major in a Portuguese army garrison in Goa of the early fifties and later on parish priest and supervising vicar in large churches all over Goa. He had nine other siblings and whether men or women, they all deferred to him in most matters. They even slightly feared him though it was not his fault. Of the other four brothers, the youngest was unceremoniously sent off to the vocation, seemingly by the parents, but likelier at his urging and for what seemed to him to be good reasons. The young lad not yet in his teens, had to adjust to a strange and strict regime in the minor and major seminaries. He cried when his mother would visit once a month when she came to do his washing. A short stint in a Goa parish was followed by the Bishop sending him to Portuguese West Africa. This young man was intelligent and well-read but of a meek and reticent nature. The Church became his raison dêtre and serving God his central purpose. After Angolas independence he was transferred to Portugal and then to Canada, then in need of priests for its Portuguese speaking parishes in Toronto. I was fortunate for the opportunity to get to know him better since I had scarcely interacted with him before. In one of my conversations I asked what bothered him most as a priest. Loneliness he said in one word. And that hit me like a ton of bricks. I had never thought of loneliness playing a large part in a priests life even with family nearby. And so on to the world-wide abuse that a relatively few priests heaped on vulnerable young boys and perhaps girls. There is no excuse for that and the church has been paying dearly for the damage wrought on those innocent victims. Hurt and damage that lasts their lifetime. Some of those victims have gone to their graves with an unforgiveable wrong done to them not only by those priests but also by their parents and those who didnt listen to them when they complained. The perpetrators thus avoided retribution and in many cases continued with their vile acts elsewhere. Such instances in Goa are whispered but surely the doors of truth there will also open sooner or later. They must, in order to start the healing process. Somewhere in the mess that occurred in the Catholic Church, the good that other priests like my two maternal uncles spent their lives doing, must not be forgotten. They sacrificed most of the joy, carefree life and the legacy of children that we take for granted, in order to do their pastoral work, run their missions, plough a stake in education and so much more. Thanks to them, we could be educated in fine schools and colleges, learnt ethics and morality, and sharpened our consciences during formative years. Not least of all, by example, they showed us that loving God really meant loving your neighbor. Your comments are welcome to roland.fran...@gmail.com