Is celibacy the Father of all turn-ons?
As TV’S Fleabag shares an illicit kiss after confession, real-life priests tell Peter Stanford about breaking their vows
Monday night’s episode of Fleabag ended with one of the most shocking scenes that writer Phoebe Wallerbridge has conjured up yet. Our eponymous heroine was weeping and on her knees in a church confessional, seemingly ready to pray, when the Catholic priest who has been her confidante – and crush – since episode one of the new series, kissed her passionately. Only the seemingly divine intervention of a holy picture falling off the wall stopped them in their tracks (“Is this trousers and a skirt?” Wallerbridge’s character panted, as she rummaged below his belt).
There was plenty for Catholics to get offended by. The all-but fornication in the house of God. The violation of the sacred space of the confessional. The near transgression of the priest’s vow of celibacy – although, in reality, in our Church, breaking a vow of celibacy with another adult is rarely a cause for dismissal or even a reprimand, as long as it doesn’t make headlines.
Father Shaun Middleton, a parish priest in south-west London, watched the scene. “I couldn’t take it that seriously,” he says. “For a start, you would never hear the confession of a non-catholic in the confessional, and for priests, like other caring professions, it is all about boundaries when dealing with vulnerable people. This priest appears to have no boundaries.”
And yet, neither he nor another friend of mine in the clergy, who prefers to remain anonymous, felt offended. A few years ago such a scene on mainstream – if late-night – TV would have caused howls of horror from Catholic bishops and priests. But no longer. “In some ways,” says my friend, “most Catholics in the pews will find it all reassuringly recognisable compared to what they are hearing priests have been up to nowadays.”
In an age where the Catholic priesthood has been gravely tarnished by the scandal of paedophilia in its ranks, this second series of Fleabag has become the surprising setting for a sensitive exploration of the gap between “normal” human desires and Catholicism’s diktat that its priests must stand apart from the rest of us. And I, in turn, have found myself warming to Fleabag’s thirtysomething cleric, known only as The Priest (and played by Andrew Scott), so carefully has the Catholic-educated Wallerbridge depicted the nuances of his predicament.
Put any reasonably well-balanced Catholic priest on the spot about their compulsory vow of celibacy, and they will tell you: it’s a struggle. Vocation is a positive thing, they insist, but celibacy – bolted on to priesthood by the Church since the 12th century – is the price they must pay.
“It is the cultural and emotional isolation that comes with it,” reflects Fr Middleton. “You feel that, in some ways, however open and human you want to be, you must always be slightly guarded when you are with people.”
“Celibacy is less complicated than romantic relationships,” is the first half-hearted line of defence to Fleabag’s advances offered by Scott (himself brought up Catholic, in Ireland). “I talk and laugh and give them Bibles,” he says of previous women to have made him wobble, “and hope they’ll leave me alone.”
His props are familiar to those living the life of a celibate cleric. “In our line of business,” my friend tells me, “many cope with celibacy by channelling our energies, or taking the edge off the isolation. Drink is the most popular avenue. An obsession with vestments is another.”
The Priest has a stash of gin and tonic tins from M&S in the sacristy, not to mention a bottle of whisky nestled among the yellowing papers and Bibles found in any church cupboard. There has already been some gentle ribbing of his garb and, in this week’s episode, when showing off his latest plum-coloured chasuble, he remarks: “Sometimes I
‘However open and human you want to be, you must always be slightly guarded’
‘Many priests cope by channelling our energies, or taking the edge off ’
wonder if I’m only in it for the outfits.”
And Waller-bridge is not one to leave the elephant in the room. In episode one, she deftly turned the stereotype of the Catholic priest on its head, when Scott’s character reassured a family dinner that he isn’t a paedophile – but, “ironically”, that his brother is. The setting of the confessional for the culmination of the latest episode also conjures the Catholic Church’s biggest crisis – many accounts of clerical abuse have begun with a priest exploiting the seal of secrecy over what goes on within its walls.
But here we witness a kiss between two consenting adults and, if The Priest is momentarily exploiting a vulnerable Fleabag, she has been pursuing him since episode one.
What will happen next? Will The Priest throw off his vestments and vows? Will Fleabag concede defeat to the higher, more powerful love of his life? Whatever the series’ end brings, none of us may look at 21st-century Catholic priests in quite the same way again.