In August 2001, I wrote an article, “Home Alone in the Priesthood,” that was published in America magazine. My thesis was that as more diocesan priests find themselves living alone, pastoring one or more parishes, both bishops and the laity need to provide more support than was offered in the past when two, and sometimes three, priests lived together in rectories. I identified various consequences that result from priests living alone, including retention problems, an increase in health and disciplinary problems, requests for early retirement, etc. Looking back at my article twenty-five years later, I have to say that I agree with 90% of what I wrote, and that almost everything I predicted has come to pass.
While an October 14, 2025, “National Study of Catholic Priests,” provided data that supported many of my earlier findings, the recent study did not adequately explain “Why Are So Many Young Priests Leaving Ministry?” Even though the study identified “burnout” and “loneliness” as factors contributing to the exodus, it did not provide concrete recommendations that might arrest the problem, nor did it address critical differences between homosexual and heterosexual clergy, which have greatly impacted the recruitment and retention of straight candidates and priests.
When I look back and attempt to analyze why I remained in ministry when others with whom I was ordained left, I think of all the families who loved and welcomed me into their homes. When Christmas arrived, and I was invited to parishioners’ homes for dinner, it was not unusual to find a gift waiting for me around their Christmas tree. When I became a supervisory chaplain and traveled to different bases around the world, when I was invited to celebrate Sunday Mass, I would always remind the Catholic congregants of the basic human need their Catholic Chaplain had for loving and being loved. As I wrote in “Home Alone in the Priesthood,”
When a woman from a base complained about the Catholic chaplain who left the military to marry, I asked her what she had done to let the chaplain know that he was loved. With the belief that celibacy works both ways, I inquired if she ever invited the priest over for dinner or sent him a card on his birthday or at Christmas. If her husband did not show his gratitude in tangible ways, especially on special occasions, might she be moved to question whether her husband really loved her? Why should one be surprised if some priests question the love of their parishioners or leave active ministry when their many acts of service often go unacknowledged?
Many Catholic families today fail to recognize how straight priests need more love from them than many homosexual priests who often prefer and enjoy the fraternal support of fellow gay priests, not to mention their closeted homosexual bishop. When I worked on weekends as a contract chaplain for a military community in the Italian port of Gaeta, Italy, I was invited by a family to stay at their home instead of aboard ship. Fifty years later, I am still in touch with that family. When a closeted homosexual Catholic chaplain celebrated Mass at a Marine Corps base in Okinawa, he didn’t interact with the families, but invited a young Marine to his quarters where he took sexual advantage of him. Within a month, the priest received an other-than-honorable discharge. He was just one of many homosexual chaplains I referenced in my America article when I wrote:
While priests comprised about 20 percent of the chaplains [in the Marine Corps], they accounted for about 50 percent of the serious offenses….while a relatively small percentage of married Protestant chaplains got into trouble as a result of adulterous behavior punishable under the Uniform Code of Military Justice, a much larger percentage of priests were imprisoned or separated as a result of homosexual conduct.
Unfortunately, most heterosexual priests today receive very little support from their bishops who in over 80 percent of the cases are homosexuals. Whenever I was on leave or liberty in Rome, I would often concelebrate morning Mass with Pope John Paul II. He enjoyed my company along with that of many families he had come to know before and after his papal election. On one occasion, in March 1981, when he invited me for dinner and to stay over in the Papal Palace, I regretted that I had to return to my ship in Naples, and I told him I would take a “rain check.” When events in Lebanon prevented my anticipated return to Rome on May 13, 1981, it was that very day that John Paul was shot in St. Peter’s Square. I, along with many heterosexual priests and families, felt very supported and loved by St. John Paul II.
Continue reading at John Eighteen Thirty Seven