Priesthood turned into a prison (From Bradford Telegraph and Argus)

Priesthood turned into a prison

8:44am Thursday 24th September 2009 in Real Lives By Emma Clayton

On the wall of Barry Higgins’s living-room are framed photographs of a young nun.

Barry was a Roman Catholic priest when he met Jean, the nun in the photograph, who had left her order after 20 years.

The couple moved in together weeks after Barry left the priesthood. He says life as a priest left him isolated and craving companionship, and he firmly believes Catholic priests should be allowed to marry.

Barry, 70, has written a book, Scattered Shepherds, about his experiences. “I’m ready for the controversy,” he says. “I’ve had a triple heart bypass, prostate cancer, coeliac disease. Now I’m ready for the biggest fight of my life. Priests who leave often fade into the wallpaper. Not me.”

Barry is sitting in his Oakenshaw home, leafing through photographs of himself as a priest, at an audience with Pope Paul VI at the Vatican, and on his wedding day to his beloved Jean, who died of cancer three years ago.

Brought up a Catholic, his churchgoing lapsed until he went to see Biblical epic Ben Hur at the cinema.

“Something happened to me during the Crucifixion scene,” says Barry. “I started going to church, and went to Lourdes. Someone asked if I’d considered becoming a priest. The more I thought about it, the more I knew it was what I wanted. I was working at an engineering firm, and I remember thinking, ‘I won’t be happy until I’m in the priesthood’.”

In 1966, aged 26, Barry went to Campion House in Middlesex to train to be a priest. He later studied at Beda College, Rome, and in March, 1972, was ordained at St Columbus’s Church, Bradford.

His first appointment was St Joseph’s Church, Keighley, before moving to a church in Leeds. While Barry knew “without question” that he wanted to be a priest, he was unsettled by the hierarchy within the priesthood.

“Bishops talked to bishops, priests talked to priests, nobody talked to curates. As a curate I felt lonely,” he says. “There was no support, no friendship. Whether we be bishop or curate, between us there should be no divisive barriers, only brotherly love. Jesus said, ‘The world will know that you are my disciples by your love for one another’.”

Barry became the priest at St Joseph’s Church, Bradford. Visiting elderly people at a residential home in Little Horton, he met Jean, who worked there.

“She’d been a nun since the age of 18, but, like me, became unhappy,” says Barry. “A platonic friendship developed. I wouldn’t say it was instant physical attraction, but there was a bond.”

Despite becoming close to Jean, Barry says he didn’t leave the priesthood to marry. “It was the basic structure of the church,” he says. “My parishioners meant the world to me, but I found it a lonely, empty, institutional life.

“Parish priests kept themselves to themselves, some with a high opinion of themselves. I lived in a house with other priests. These men were meant to be my ‘brothers’, but there was no companionship. When I raised concerns, I was told, ‘pull yourself together’.”

Barry left the priesthood in the autumn of 1977 and married Jean that December.

“I found the love and companionship I hadn’t found as a priest,” he says. “We were surprised at the support from parishioners, although not everyone was supportive.”

They married in a civil ceremony, with a church blessing 18 months later. “We had to wait because the Pope withheld dispensation for former priests to marry in the Catholic church,” says Barry.

The couple lived in Burley-in-Wharfedale and Baildon, among other places, running shops and a guest house, before settling in Oakenshaw. They were together 29 years until Jean died of cancer three years ago. “She died here at home. I was saying Mass in the kitchen, as I do every morning, and went to her. She died seconds later,” says Barry.

He’d like to return to the priesthood, and feels his experience of marriage would make him stronger. “I can empathise in a way someone who’s never married can’t. A neighbour’s husband died, I found her one day in tears and was able to comfort her because I knew that sorrow.

“The priesthood never leaves you. There was once a terrible road accident near my house; a man was dying and I gave him the Last Rites.”

Barry called his book Scattered Shepherds after the priests who’ve left active ministry. He says the issue needs to be addressed for the Church to move forward.

“There are fewer priests coming through, churches are closing. If the Church is to flourish, its structure needs to change. The origins of the vow of celibacy is vague, through the centuries the institution has gathered dust. If priests wish to marry, they should be allowed.

“I would go back into the priesthood, on my terms. Because of ill-health my active ministry would be limited, but valuable. I’ve had no response from the Church. There is no welcome back for this Prodigal Son.”

Scattered Shepherds, by Barry Higgins, is published by AuthorHouse UK Ltd (0800 1974150).