Priests in Love (3 of 11): Terms of Endearment.

From Jane Anderson’s “Priest in Love: Roman Catholic Clergy and Their Intimate Friendships” (a book of interviews with Australian priests) (p. 93):

Fr. Lucas and Sr. Johanna often had coffee together.  He shared with her ideas for sermons and plans for the church, while she discussed her own ministry and thoughts about life and the church...

But after many, many months, Fr. Lucas realized that he was becoming attracted to Johanna in ways that troubled him.  They had started embracing each other and while holding and being held by her was a beautiful experience, he was fearful of the desire that seemed to be welling up inside him.  Eventually, he decided that he needed to talk openly and honestly with Johanna.  So one Sunday afternoon they went for a drive.  Away out in the bush they found a quiet spot where they could talk about their feelings for each other.

“We also talked about the risk of our sexual attraction for each other.  So I suggested the way to beat the problem was to deal with the attraction while we were still in control.  We came to a decision that embracing, touching, intimacy, nakedness, all this was acceptable, but under no circumstance was there to be sexual intercourse.

“Even as I write this, I wonder, did this really happen?  What on earth did I think I was trying to do?  I can answer that latter part quite truthfully:  I was trying to survive.”

. . .

(They never had sex; eventually, Sr. Johanna got an assignment overseas, and left.)

Priests in Love (2 of 11): The First Time.

From Jane Anderson’s “Priest in Love: Roman Catholic Clergy and Their Intimate Friendships” (a book of interviews with Australian priests) (p. 63):

“Before I can tell this, please realise that I was in my midsixties before I ever touched a woman’s breasts and genitals.  What I did may have been the actions of a twenty-year-old but I was doing this with the wisdom, knowledge, and religious attitude of a sixty-four-year-old priest.  This difference is important.

“The first time we were in the bedroom, in the first week of January, she stood naked before me and said, ‘I didn’t give you a Christmas present so I want to give you the best gift I can give you, the gift of my own body.’  This is Eucharist – my body given for you.  Kissing and sucking her nipples helped me to see a link with the spiritual drink of Eucharist.

“I saw her vagina as sacred and holy, and I saw my penis as a sacred holy part of my body, and a gift from God.  In the giving and receiving, I accepted this as being similar to the Eucharist.  We talked about this, my friend and I, and we spoke about circumcision as the Jewish dedication to the Lord and the most evident sign of belonging to the community of God’s people.   Our lovemaking was our dedication, and this was a mutual interpretation.  Sexual intimacy helped me understand Eucharist, and Eucharist helped me to understand intimacy.”

. . .

Priests in Love (1 of 11): An Ex-Nun.

From Jane Anderson’s “Priest in Love: Roman Catholic Clergy and Their Intimate Friendships” (a book of interviews with Australian priests) (p. 25):

“After we became deacons, we spent sometime [sic] in our home parish.  Here I was introduced to an ex-nun.  She was very active in the parish.  We found much to talk about, and it was all very open.  She was quite apprehensive about her future as far as relationships went.  She had started at the convent at an early age.  Now in her midthirties, she told me that she felt incompetent in the sexual sense.  She very nervously asked if I could show her how to kiss.

“It sounds so naive now, but at the time it was a real need.  Upon reflection, what was naive was to think it could stop at a kiss...

“Part of the deal with the spiritual director was that I would stop seeing the lady in question.  The news of this sudden end was painful for her.  We promised to see each other twelve months later.  After a long and lonely year, I dropped around at the usual time of evening.  She was entertaining the local curate.  She was polite but had no wish to resume any sort of relationship.”

. . .

Christine Jorgensen’s Memoirs (4 of 4): The Day JFK Was Shot.

From Christine Jorgensen’s “Christine Jorgensen: A Personal Autobiography” (p. 286):

I was in Omaha, preparing to rehearse for an opening night, and had arrived at the club shortly after the first horrifying news began to sweep the nation.  I remember the scene of unreality as if it had happened this very morning.  A group of a dozen or so performers hung limply around a television set, shocked into a state of frightening suspension, and watching the events as one horror lurched after another.  Some of us wept, some watched in mindless trance.  Few could voice what they felt.

After hours of the nightmare had passed, we were instructed to finish the rehearsal and prepare for the performance.  Most of us were convinced that no one would show up that night, but we went through the motions of getting ready, anyway.  On the contrary, the house was packed.  People seemed to feel the need of preoccupation and the security of company, even strangers, as if they were seeking a confirmation of the truth.

We performed that evening, though we’d removed most of the comedic material, leaving little but the musical numbers.  At the end of the show, I was asked to express a few words of our feelings, and the audience joined the entire company as we sang “God Bless America.”  It will always stay with me as a painful and touching evening.

. . .

Christine Jorgensen’s Memoirs (3 of 4): Connecticut Visit.

From Christine Jorgensen’s “Christine Jorgensen: A Personal Autobiography” (p. 233):

En route to another engagement [of my nightclub act], we stopped at a restaurant in a small Connecticut town.  The proprietress kept staring at me in confusion, and finally asked me my name.  When I told her, she drew a deep breath and managed to gasp out a single comment: “My God, what a wonderful job!”

. . .

Christine Jorgensen’s Memoirs (2 of 4): Chicago Visit.

From Christine Jorgensen’s “Christine Jorgensen: A Personal Autobiography” (p. 209; respaced from original):

From Indiana [where I visited Dr. Alfred Kinsey], I stopped off in Chicago for a day or two to visit my uncle... 

Due to a huge market convention, hotel rooms were at a premium in Chicago, and I stood in line to register at one of the city’s big hotels.  A lady in front of me asked for a room and was told by the clerk, “There might be one available in the women’s section of the YWCA – if you’re Christine Jorgensen.” 

I stepped forward and said, quietly, “I’m Christine Jorgensen and I’d rather stay here, if possible.” 

His discomfort was marvelous to behold.  He flushed to a shocking pink, and after a long pause, hurried to arrange an accommodation.

. . .