Should Celibate Clergy Counsel Couples on Marital Sex?

I put that controversial question to a middle-aged, married Catholic woman the other day, and the response was: “A doctor doesn’t have to experience pain to understand pain.”

Her reply was snappy, succinct, a quick-draw response she would’ve whipped out whenever fools like me resurrected this tired old argument about celibate clergy and the sexual counsel they offer couples.

Mine was a pertinent question. After all, how does a celibate man begin to counsel anyone on matters of physical intimacy? He’s uniquely qualified to comment on how to avoid sex, not the other way around.

Nancy is a staunch Catholic. Defending Faith is her duty. I get that. I disagree with her metaphor. Nancy used a doctor’s life experience to describe a Priest’s. On the surface, it sounded like a logical argument, but it only solidified my own.

Where are these doctors who are unable to feel pain? Could a doctor who has never experienced pain be a proper doctor? Would he or she have the necessary empathy to excel in medicine?

Pain experience is a necessary qualification to begin a journey into medicine. It couldn’t be done without it, but if it were, I see an underqualified individual who sits in the minority in their field. Sexless Priests are the majority of their own.

Think I’m splitting hairs as to when the doctor pain is experienced?

Well, let’s talk about that for a moment. Celibate clergy never have sex, much less marital sex; however, doctors have felt pain, in the past, in the future, not necessarily when they’re administering medicine. I’m not splitting hairs. I’m defining hair. This hair is not equal. The metaphor is flawed.

Metaphors like Nancy’s need to be made of solid foundations because someone like me will take them apart and turn them around. I’ll reinterpret them where it suits. I’m a person who has spent time on the stage. I’m used to reinterpreting words in alternative ways for the characters I’ve played. I like being open to alternatives.

I can dress and act like a Priest and put on a convincing Priestly performance. Based on Nancy’s metaphor, I don’t need to be Christian to become a Priest. All I need is to know what it’s like to be one. I’m qualified. Call me Father and confess your sins to me now!

It’s absurd, but so is the idea that a celibate Priest has the necessary qualifications to counsel couples on sex and marital sex, without experiencing either of them, ever.

I wrote more about my opinions in my novel. The story is factual, and it’s wrapped in some fiction — mostly to protect the guilty.

–Michael (Dark fiction. Author of SEETHINGS (the first book), free for a limited time)