From my earliest memories, I grew up in a very strict Catholic atmosphere. Almost everybody in Portlaoise was Catholic. My own mother was a very devout Catholic, as was our nurse, Biddy. Mother was the Director of the Legion of Mary. She not only professed, but regularly practiced the best elements of Catholicism: Charity to the Poor. Many hungry people came to our house for food on a regular basis and, even if the were drunk, she never turned them away.
We said the family rosary on our knees almost every night after supper. We were educated by men who had devoted their lives to the church, the Irish Christian Brothers. We said prayers in the morning before classes and in the afternoon before we left school. We studied the Gospels and we were very familiar with the concepts of Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, Limbo, and the Devil himself. We knew the difference between Mortal Sin and Venial Sin, and all of their consequences.
If one died in Mortal Sin before having the opportunity to confess, it was straight to Hell's everlasting flames. If one died in Venial Sin, it was off to Purgatory, where flames would gradually burned away the sins and, finally, once pure, would move on to Heaven where one enjoyed the presence of God forever. If one could manage to make it without any sin on his soul, it was straight to Heaven. But there were several degrees of Heaven. One could be perfectly happy in each, but, by choosing to give your life to the service of God (ie, a Priest), you would enjoy the highest place in Heaven for all eternity.
In the Ireland of 1945, for the adolescent boy, sex was sin. Disobeying one's parents, telling lies, stealing were all sinful, and all featured large in the monthly confession. But none of those had the status that sex had. Just thinking about sex was a sin. A simple kiss on the lips was a Venial Sin. Open the mouth, it becomes a Mortal sin. Going on a date was "an occasion of sin." Any kind of touching a girl under her clothing was a Mortal Sin. And, of course, masturbation was a Mortal Sin. So I grew up amid the fierce tug-of-war between the joys of sin and the joy of going to Heaven. Both, at the time, seemed very real & important to me.
Every year at school we would have a three day retreat , during which the Priest would graphically depict the dangers of sin. He would also describe how precious a 'vocation' was. Nothing was greater than a calling by God to devote one's life to Him. To outline the dangers that lay directly in our path, he'd go on to tell us a story that might go something like this:
Twenty years ago, there was this 15 year old boy who was leading a good and holy life. One evening a girl asked him out for a walk and the committed Mortal Sins. On the way home, a lorry smashed into them and sent them directly into the flames of Hell, and they are still burning there even as we talk, and they know they will be tortured there for ever.
A vivid and highly imaginative description of the horrors of Hell would follow such a story.
On the other hand, a boy who resisted temptation and listened to God's call and became a Priest would go straight to Heaven, and to pleasures that far exceeded any pleasure we could possibly enjoy here on Earth.
I remember when I made my decision that I had a Vocation. I was in our Dining Room, sitting by the fire. I had just turned 18. My Mother came into the room and casually asked me if I had made up my mind what I wanted to do after passing my Leaving Cert at school. I replied, "I can't understand how anybody who believed the Gospels and the Revelations of Christ could do anything but devote their lives to him." But, upon reflection, I think even at that stage of my development there were some incipient doubts about the veracity of the Catholic message.
At that time I was quite taken with a really beautiful girl named Ponky McSharry. We went out together and she told me that she loved me, but would not want me to forsake my vocation on her behalf. I wondered if my strong feelings for Ponky was not a sign that I was not meant for the Priesthood. We kept our sins within the Venial limits, but I was suffering an agony of indecision right up to the day I left to begin my Jesuit training.
Most priests are ordained after seven years of training. Jesuit training extended over 16 years.
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