Dear Fr. Donovan

A parish priest in Springfield, IL, recently had to call 911 for assistance getting out of recreational handcuffs. In the rectory. Police allegedly found “some sort of gag” on the priest.  This item has circulated widely on the Internet in the past few days. Chuckles abound at the priest getting up to some kind of funny business while being in the business of telling other people not to partake in similar kinds of funny business. You can listen to the 911 tape anywhere.

Am I getting soft? This rampant mocking of Fr. Donovan just makes me sad. I was also saddened by the widespread mocking of a nun caught on a security camera stealing beer. I don’t know a thing about Fr. Donovan, but if said business was conducted on his own or with another consenting adult, whose business is it? I know, I know. The same church that blah blah blah. But what about the kinky priest as a human being? Who hasn’t done questionable things in questionable circumstances? One might even say it’s the great Catholic pastime. Sinning, then repenting. Lathering, rinsing and repeating, so to speak. Doesn’t mean we’re not sincere or that we’re not really trying to not be bad. Sometimes sin just wins. Anyway, Fr. Donovan, call me if you ever just want to, you know, talk.

I’m here for you, mon pere.