A Catholic Priest is About to be Excommunicated -- Guess Why

The place: Heaven’s gate.

The time: Around 2028, give or take a few mortal years.

The scene: A large crowd of newly dead, not yet liberated from their earthly forms, is trying to maintain order despite a cluster of men who shout, wag their fingers and, occasionally, shove.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! For pity’s sake, please!” one of the non-combative people in the crowd cries out. “What in God’s name has you behaving in such an unholy way?”

A man whose body is of average size, but whose essence emanates a royal purple aura, whirls around with a contemptuous look. Pointing to another man, also of ordinary physical dimension, but whose aura seems made of sunlight, the angry man barks:

“What is he doing here? He has no right whatsoever to stand among us at the gates of heaven. Don’t you know? He was excommunicated!”

The non-combative person, who is long-limbed and thin, appears to be male, but he has an androgynous quality that sets him apart from the others.

“You mean he’s Roman Catholic, and he so offended the church leadership that he was officially denied the sacrament of Communion?” the gentle man asks.

“Correct!” booms the purple-aura man.

“What did he do?” the quiet man asks. “Was he among the thousands of mentally sick Catholic clergy who sexually abused children? Was he among the hierarchy who knew of these men’s illness but, in the name of protecting the church, continued to assign them to parishes and contact with more children?”

The purple-aura man grows more purple. In a low voice, heavy with fury, he responds: “He was indeed a priest. His name is Roy Bourgeois. But his excommunication had nothing to do with that unfortunate subject.”

The non-combative man smiles broadly and embraces Bourgeois.

“Father Roy!” he exclaims. “I know of you. Your tireless efforts to bring peace and justice to the oppressed of Latin America are legendary among good people of many faiths. Your courage in non-violent protest of the military training facility known as the School of the Americas is much admired.”

Bourgeois bows his head.

“Thank you,” he says, humbly. “I became a Maryknoll priest in 1972 after I was in combat in Vietnam. I served for 36 years until …”

The quiet man asks, “What did you do to warrant the ultimate deprivation of Christ’s body and blood in Communion?”

Father Roy sighs and answers, “I concelebrated a religious ceremony with a woman priest. I publicly advocated the ordination of women priests. I refused to recant my belief that God calls women and men to priesthood and that Catholic teaching to the contrary was wrong and unsupported by Scripture.”

At this, the purple-aura man explodes: “I am a cardinal, the head of the Vatican office that warned Roy Bourgeois in 2008 to recant or face excommunication!”

“You were,” the thin, non-combative man says.

“Were what?” the purple-aura man snaps.

“You were a cardinal and the head of an important Vatican office,” the quiet man says. “Your earthly life is over. You’re just another soul here, waiting to pass through the gates of heaven. All wait regardless of their mortal status: Catholic popes, Anglican archbishops and Episcopal bishops, directors of the mighty Southern Baptist Convention, television evangelists, pastors of megachurches. And the admission criteria are deeds, not job titles.”

A man who hasn’t spoken but who had been among the arguing, shoving cluster steps toward the thin, androgynous man. He, too, emits a purplish aura, but it is more violet than royal.

“What do you know about Anglicans?” he says, with noticeable irritation.