Sins of the Father, Sins of the Son

Going home

I'm still not sure exactly what it was that brought me back to Michigan; it certainly wasn't the harsh winters. There was nothing left for me here; maybe that's why the Lord wanted me to return? To face all the things I had run from, to remember who I was, to remember where I came from? It's a logical conclusion considering I had excelled spiritually, intellectually, and pastorally, but I had yet to develop myself as a person, which is vitally important for anyone seeking to wear the cloth. Where better to test my inner strength than to return to the place that had brought me so much pain?

The Archdiocese of Baltimore sponsored me as a seminarian; I returned to St. Mary's to finish my studies and obtained a Masters in Theological Studies. Shortly after being ordained as a Transitional Diaconate, I had a massive change of heart after much prayer, I no longer wanted to settle down in Maryland, I wanted to return to Michigan to continue my journey toward priesthood. It couldn't be clearer that this was God's plan for me, that is where he wanted me to spread the good news and tend my future flock.

I informed the Archbishop of Baltimore of these new developments and asked him if he would consider speaking with the Archbishop of Detroit about a transfer. He was hesitant at first; he said I had a bright future within the Archdiocese of Baltimore, but that he would acquiesce. First he had asked me if this was God's plan or my own. I told him returning to Michigan was one of my greatest fears and that any plans of my own involved settling down in Maryland. He had given me that familiar warm smile I had grown accustomed to, the type of smile that could make you feel optimistic about anything.

The Archdiocese of Detroit granted me a six-month appointment as a deacon at the Crown and the Cross Parish located in Elm Park, MI, a concrete suburb of metro Detroit. That's where I met a man that was influential to my life beyond words or explanation, my parish priest, Father Monaghan. He wasn't just a mentor to me; he became a father-figure, one that understood me so much better than my own father. I soon came to realize that God had brought me back to Michigan specifically to meet this man, someone who could tap into my full potential and show me how to be the best servant I could possibly be. I realized that God's plan had nothing to do with my past, with me facing the sins and fears I had long forgotten-again I was wrong.

Father Monaghan was ordained as a Catholic priest in 1968, meaning he was still required to receive a minor order of exorcist (this was reformed in 1972). His bishop was so impressed with his piety, his prudence, his knowledge, and his integrity that he granted him the role of a Mandated Exorcist and allowed him to join the International Association of Exorcists led by Gabriele Amorth of the Diocese of Rome. Membership was extremely exclusive; in fact, Father Monaghan was the only member in the state of Michigan and only one of two in the entire Midwest. Father Monaghan was the priest people turned to when they exhausted all other efforts in cases of demonic infestations, demonic oppression, and demonic possession. I always saw him as the last line of defense between human beings and the malevolent spirits that dwell beyond. He had so many fascinating stories, I'd sit in his office for hours discussing the demons he had faced, the ones he had exorcised, and the ones that were too strong for him. He would tell me that he wouldn't share these stories with just anybody; he believed I had the strength of will, the strength of character, and the utter devotion to God required to be considered for the position of a Mandated Exorcist. He was so thoroughly impressed with my ability, he had decided to mentor me as not only a priest, but as a future Mandated Exorcist. Of course I was tickled; I had never in my wildest dreams expected Father Monaghan to be so impressed with me; it really was an honor. I had come to believe that he was merely encouraging me to be the best Catholic I could be; I never expected him to ask me to serve as his assistant during an exorcism, especially before I was ordained. I never thought I would come face-to-face with something so evil that it threatened to permanently infect my soul, cause me to quit Catholicism, and eventually ponder suicide. Sure, it sounds rash, but

that's exactly what happened. I wasn't prepared for it, now that I think about it; I don't think anyone can prepare themselves to meet a demon for the first time.

Father Monaghan was not privy to my weaknesses; if he was, he probably never would have asked me to attend. I had never confessed certain things to him: my grief for the loss of my mother, the anger I had for my father for abandoning me, Simeon and the guilt I carried for his victim. These were all things I kept hidden from the world, buried in the deepest, most impenetrable vault in the depths of my heart and mind. I should have known it couldn't stay hidden forever; I should have known there are no secrets that can be kept in the face of pure evil.