A REFLECTION FOR OCTOBER 28, 2023

“I dreamed a dream in times gone by, when hope was high and life worth living. I dreamed that love would never die, I dreamed that God would be forgiving…. But there are dreams that cannot be, and there are storms we cannot weather…. I had a dream my life would be so different from this hell I’m living…. Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.” Fantine, Les Miz

A REFLECTION FOR OCTOBER 28, 2023

Seven years ago, on October 28, 2016, I was summoned with little notice to meet with my bishop, Frank Dewane, in the presence of his JV, Rev. Joseph Waters (an import from the St. Petersburg Diocese), and my companion, Rev. David Deibel, who later would become my Advocate for the last seven years. For seven years now I have been libeled and defamed, hollered and screamed at, and for seven years, from day one, my bishop has sought the dissolution of my priesthood. Never did I enjoy the presumption of innocence, and never was I spoken to directly about the matters of my case which were leveled by a wealthy family in Baltimore, and which had been previously and quietly examined publicly by the County’s Sheriff’s office for some two and one-half years. That investigation was ended in February before the October 28th meeting, concluding they could not find any criminality proving that I deliberately took advantage of a elderly, vulnerable woman. Sheriff at that time, Mike Smith, said I should be considered “not-guilty.” In spite of the results of that study, Bishop Dewane maliciously treated me as a criminal, drawing up in advance of that 28th meeting, papers for me to sign which would voluntarily give up my priesthood. Since I refused to voluntarily surrender my priesthood, and since the bishop luckily is not empowered to take that priesthood away himself, he made the complex decision to send his request for my removal to Rome. After several years of searching for an excuse to do so that would seem reasonable and convincing, with no specificity that I have been allowed to see, the Diocese landed on the vague notion that I had committed “offenses against the Code of Pastoral conduct for the Diocese,” something purported to be serious enough that I was relieved of my duties as pastor, thrown out of the rectory, and prevented from celebrating public Mass for the past seven years. The day after the 28th, the Diocese issued a scandalously tepid letter leading the parishioners to make their own salacious conclusions regarding my absence. In addition, the Diocese called in the media and press for all of the weekend Masses who made an unpleasant circus which assured that Fr. Christopher’s reputation would be called into question far and wide. The depths of Bishop Dewane’s animus towards Fr. Christopher has been blatantly displayed, not only with the creation of a document prepared in advance for Fr. Christopher to surrender his priesthood, but also in his public assertion during the course of the Roman investigation “that no matter what Rome decides, Fr. Christopher will never have faculties in this diocese as long as he is bishop.” One has to ask, how was Bishop Dewane chosen to be a bishop in the church? He clearly was not chosen by the standards which govern new guidelines created by Pope Francis, for his arrogance, self-absorption, and narcissistic tendencies had to be obvious in the years that he worked in Rome. No doubt he had a “patron,” someone in high places who moved heaven and earth to take a chance on his candidate and friend, someone who helped him secure the in forma specifica when the bishop’s case against Fr. Christopher was lost, even though the evidence for a “year of prayer and penance” was nearly invisible. Further, Bishop Dewane falls terribly short of the qualities mentioned in 1 Timothy 3:29 and Titus 1:5, qualities highlighted by Bishop Walter Sullivan as being prerequisites of ordination and any Christian leader: “trustworthy, respectful of others, other-centered, irreproachable, even-tempered, self-controlled, modest, hospitable, gentle, a person of peace, straight-forward, not someone who loves money, not addicted to drink, steady, just, and a lover of goodness.” The people of the Diocese that he has made suffer so much over the years would, with great unanimity, agree that Bishop Dewane possesses few of these qualities. How much suffering does it take for Rome to intervene? With so much suffering so pervasive in the world around us, any comparisons would soon become odious. What I do know is that seven years is too long; the pound of flesh has been more than sufficiently satisfied. I cannot sit here and say that I have achieved greatness in the execution of all those qualities mentioned by Bishop Sullivan, but I can say that in the midst of trial and hardship I have tried not to forget from whence my original calling to the priesthood came from. I have always been, and continue to be, a work in progress. In spite of the depressive shadow which has hung over my life these last seven years, I have tried to emulate the advice given to Corrie ten Boom by her sister just before her sister died in the concentration camps: “Corrie, no hate!” It is not easy to prevent hate from entering into your life, especially when your life has been made so much more difficult than it needed to be. Too much time has already been spent on “if only:” if only I had a bishop who was compassionate and more like a shepherd; if only I had a bishop who cared about others as much as he cares about himself; if only I had a bishop who was faithful to the rules of canon law; if only I had a bishop who was kind, trustworthy, gentle, and who truly valued the justice preached in the gospel. Alas, my life was destined to suffer at the hands of the same Church to which I gave my life some 54 years ago when I entered the Benedictine monastery of St. Anselm. My greatest consolation is uniting my suffering to that of Christ, who, from the vantage point of Gethsamne, seemed not to fully understand of what possible benefit his death could be. The acknowledgment of this untenable and painful anniversary will take place with no fanfare, and the days will be filled with thoughts of those who truly could have helped but chose not to. But the day will also be filled with thoughts of those people who have generously stood by me, supported me, and suffered along with me, for it is not just my story, it is also the story of the destruction of a vibrant and loving parish, all for no reason. Shame on those responsible for what has been done to our beloved St. Isabel. As much as the powers-that-be would like to pretend that what was done was necessary, there is no excuse for the excessively harsh way things were handled seven years ago on October 28. May God be kinder to them than they were to me. Fr. Christopher Senk