IRELAND
Irish Independent
Bishop Kirby’s remarks bring into question the kind of man who is called to the priesthood, says Emer O’Kelly
When I was about 12, I was sitting on a crowded bus not paying too much attention, when a voice said: “Sorry, excuse me.” It was a pleasant looking man wearing a dog collar.
He was gesturing to my skirt which was spread a bit wide. “Sorry, Father,” I apologised and tucked it in. “That’s okay,” he said. “I just didn’t want to crush it.” Then, as he sat down, he smiled and said, “Actually, it’s Rector.” And he buried himself in his newspaper.
Back home, I was repeating my embarrassment at my assumption. A friend of my mother’s was there, a retired hospital matron who had spent her working life in England.
She nodded knowingly, “Of course,” she said through pursed lips. “Up to no good. A priest would have sat somewhere else.” The old bag is long dead, but I can’t help wondering how she would have dealt with the scandals in the Catholic Church which have destroyed thousands of lives. Sadly, I think I know.
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