|
IN THIS ISSUE
From the President
|
Epilepsy and the Church - A Life Experience Guy Fortugno (Group 126 YA) and Fr. Lawrence Jagdfeld, O.F.M. Guy’s Experience: My father died when I was four years old. He was a construction worker, and one day was crushed by a bulldozer. He was thirty-five. My mother then raised six children singlehandedly; the youngest was two and the oldest was twelve. My cousin Eddie would come over after my father died. I would see him dressed in black. I learned that these men dressed in black were called priests. Eddie was a deacon then. When I was in sixth grade, I became an altar boy and was more familiar with what a priest was and his duties. I wanted to be one of them. My mother would tell me that I couldn’t be a priest because I had epilepsy. I didn’t understand this because I knew many people who were sick and were professionals. As a senior in high school, I went to a Vocation Director. The first question he asked was “Why do you want to be a priest?” He also asked whether my pastor knew of my desire and whether I had discussed it with other priests. He made it clear that I needed several referrals. My pastor had told me the same thing my mother had said. He told me that I could not be a priest because I had epilepsy. Among his reasons was the fact that I couldn’t say Mass alone, I could not be in a parish alone, I could not drive, all because of the possibility of seizure. I raised the issue of diabetic priests and priests with other diseases. This did not seem to get me anywhere. I was told to “volunteer” my service to the church. However, no one encouraged me in my vocation. I found my way to Holy Apostles Seminary and was accepted there as a lay student. A priest there, Fr. Joseph, tried to take my side. He too had experienced difficulties in pursuing his vocation. Twenty-four years passed between his entrance in the seminary and his ordination. No matter what he did for me, no diocese or religious community would accept me. After a while, Fr. Joseph found a religious community that accepted me. My doctor changed my medication, and I had a seizure. So I was asked to leave the community. Today the Catholic Church has a great shortage of priests. Is it possible that the clergy shortage is caused by the fact that the Church refuses too many without giving them a chance. Today’s response to the clergy shortage is “clustering.” In my cluster, there are thirteen churches being cared for by nine priests. Today my pastor does the work of four priests. I am fifty years old and still live with my mother. She works longer and harder than me. I now receive disability from Medicare and Social Security. People say that you should do what you are good at. Because I have epilepsy, people have told me that I am good for nothing. My response is, “That’s exactly what I am doing - nothing.” I make rosaries and help with CCD. The battle is over, and the other side won. The world rarely hears from those of us who “are looking for a place to sit.” Fr. Lawrence’s Response: Guy’s story is one that has been played out over and over again down through history. His experience of trying to pursue a vocation to the priesthood was complicated by his epilepsy. Why was he rejected? To understand Guy’s story, we need to understand how people viewed epilepsy until recently. It all starts with the Gospel: When they came to the crowd a man approached, knelt down before him, and said, "Lord, have pity on my son, for he is a lunatic and suffers severely; often he falls into fire, and often into water. I brought him to your disciples, but they could not cure him." Jesus said in reply, "O faithless and perverse generation, how long will I be with you? How long will I endure you? Bring him here to me." Jesus rebuked him and the demon came out of him, and from that hour the boy was cured. (Matthew 17:14-18) There are several other stories like this. In each of the stories, Jesus “drives out” the evil spirit and restores the person to health. Unfortunately, the view that epilepsy was a form of possession persisted for a very long time. Because of this belief, when Church Law was codified (around 400 A.D.), there was a provision put in place that no one could be ordained if they had epilepsy or any other kind of evil spirit. If you have done any Bible study at all, you know that in biblical times “illness” and “disability” were generally seen as a punishment for sin. In the Gospel of John, when Jesus and disciples come upon a man who was born blind, the disciples ask Jesus: “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Lepers, epileptics, any sick person at all were not allowed to enter the temple or the synagogue. They were not able to participate in the life of the community until they were declared to be “clean.” When they were well again, they had to go to the temple to make a “sin offering” before they could rejoin the ordinary life of the people in their community. Of course, we know now that epilepsy is not a form of possession and that illness is not a result of sin. It took many hundreds of years for society to change its perception of illness and disability. Even today, people still ostracize people with disabilities. This is true of people who have diseases that bring fear with them. Many people cannot even bring themselves to say the word “cancer,” let alone be near someone who is sick with it. AIDS is another such disease. Even though our doctors and scientists have shown that casual contact cannot put a person in danger of catching this disease, people, even young children, are often ostracized when it is learned that they are victims of this disease. In 1983, when the Church revised its code of Canon Law, the prohibition of ordaining epileptics was lifted. It is no longer the case that men with epilepsy cannot be ordained. Of course, that does not change the injustices of the past. Guy was an innocent victim of a misunderstood disease and was discriminated against accordingly. Prejudice and discrimination of any sort is a very hurtful thing as he so eloquently attests in his life story. I can remember one such occasion in my own life. I am hearing impaired. Once in a noisy restaurant I “signed” something to my dinner companion because it was so hard for me to hear in the noisy environment. The waiter saw me using sign language. From that point on, he never spoke directly to me but asked my companion what I wanted. This persisted even though we told him that I could hear well enough to answer his questions. It was for me just a small taste of what all victims of discrimination experience. As I read his story, I noticed that no one ever seemed to have given him an explanation for the decisions made in his case. At one point, Guy wrote, “It sounds like one needs perfect health to be a priest.” Yet no one ever seems to have said that to him. However, he was correct in his assumption. Until the Code of Canon Law was changed in 1983, anyone who applied to the seminary had to be in near perfect health. Some religious communities were not so demanding. Cardinal George, the Archbishop of Chicago, was turned away from the seminary here in Chicago because he had been a victim of polio when he was younger. He was lucky to find a religious seminary which would accept him despite the fact that polio left him with a weak leg. Guy was born in born in 1956 or 1957. Unfortunately, the changes in the law came too late to make a difference in his case. I wish there were some way that we could turn the clock back and remedy the problems of the past. While they can do that in the movies, our lives don’t work that way. As we learned in the year 2000 when Pope John Paul II made apologies for all the sins of the Church during the past millennium, the Church is made up of human beings, and human beings are, by definition, sinners. Guy has unfortunately been one of the victims of that kind of sin. God gives each of us a cross to bear. Each person’s cross is uniquely suited to their abilities, their strengths, their personalities, and their weaknesses. Guy’s cross is no exception. He has been asked by God to carry the cross of disappointment and disillusionment. His cross has brought him pain and suffering not only from the disease he bears but also the misunderstanding of that disease by the rest of society. In CUSA, we are always reminded that “We suffer for a purpose.” Oftentimes it is difficult to discern what purpose God has in mind when He decides which cross to assign to us. There is an old story about a man who had come to the decision that his cross was too heavy to bear. He prayed every day that God would take the cross away and give him something else. One day God appeared to him and said, “My son, I have heard your prayer. Over in that room are all the crosses. Take yours in there and put it down. Then find another one that you would rather bear. So the man went into the room and put down his cross. He started to look through all of the crosses, trying to pick one that would better suit him. It took him a long time, but finally he found one that he thought would not be so heavy. We went back out to God to show Him the cross he had chosen. When he came out of the room, he said to God, “Thank you, God, for letting me choose a different cross. I’ll take this one.” God smiled and said, “But my son, that’s the one you went in there with.” The moral of this story is simple but hard to live out. God knows what is best for us. As St. Paul tells us, “The Spirit knows our needs before we do.” I hope that all of us will be able to see God’s will in our situation, and that we will be able to overcome any bitterness we might feel toward the Church or society. To a certain extent that is the task that lies before Guy and people like him. Somehow, with God’s grace, he is being asked by God to persevere in his baptismal commitment in spite of the discrimination he has experienced. He won’t be able to serve God as a priest. However, he can serve God in other ways if he can set aside the bitter disappointment that he obviously feels. Guy is currently ministering as a catechist for CCD and as a rosary maker. Guy’s experience is just one more story that proves the point that St. Paul places a very difficult task before us when he says: Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body. (Colossians 1:24). It isn’t easy to “rejoice in suffering.” That is just another indication of how vital our CUSAN vocation is in the Church today. |
|
Home Who We Are Cusa Blog Caregivers Inspiration Membership Friends of Cusa The Cusan Gallery |
|
|
