The Missing Priesthood

And why we are going to get it back

Looking back, it started very early.

There were mystical moments … moments that are hard to explain.

Did you ever find yourself, as a child, sitting in the middle of a magical experience? Maybe you were lying in the grass, noticing a feeling of peace and happiness, of connectedness? Perhaps you have an early memory of being held by your father or mother? Or of the first time you received a gift that was significant for you?

Do you have memories of birthdays, holidays or Christmas parties, which held ‘weight’ for you? There is a weightiness to the moments in life when we have truly known love. It is no surprise that the word we use to describe God’s presence, or “glory”, literally translates “heaviness.”

For me, the earliest memories I have of feeling this way happened in the presence of priests.

Before I had words, theology or any sense of calling to become a priest myself, I knew there was something ‘weighty’ about this vocation, and despite the rejection of the term as by some church traditions, I do believe in a priestly calling. I remember feeling this when I visited a monastery as a child. It was a place where young Catholic men were training to take vows for life. Long before I understood anything about their vows of poverty, chastity or obedience, I somehow knew that their offering was special. It carried weight for me.

I loved it. I loved it deeply.

It was only later in life that I became aware of the corruption within the priesthood and how tainted the profession is.

Even aside from my own experiences of abuse, coercion and control within the church, I remember feeling sad whenever I watched me peers roll their eyes at “having to go to Mass or attend church.” I wanted their experience of priests and things of faith to be positive and inspiring, even if they were not religious themselves. I used to think about ways I could do the job better! This, of course, is the kind of dissatisfaction that comes with a calling to the priesthood. It is one of the signs that you have it.

Whenever I listen to peers or colleagues debrief about the corruption or lies they have experienced in the church, I notice that very often, underneath the disclosures there are feelings of sorrow. Something has been robbed of us. Where are the spiritual leaders or guides who we can trust anymore?

We want priests to be good, clean and authentic. We want the magic back.

But what is it that they do exactly??? Is it just outdated now?

It is still a thing, even in a modern, scientific world. In many ancient societies, including Greece, Mesopotamia, Sudan, the northern plains of India and Israel a pluriform tradition of intellectual leadership roles developed, representing the ‘sage, priest and prophet.’ In Hebrew these were termed hakim, kohen and nabi. They were not always structured uniformly and often a king would function in all three roles. In short, the sage would provide advice regarding sound policy and strategy. The prophet would warn – they were futurists and advocates. The priest would heal. They helped individuals and whole nations to reconcile, forgive, renew. This gift is meant to reach out to all nations, all cultures, and not to be confined to the church, even though for people of faith it flows from a core reconciliation of our hearts to God.   

Today, because so many of those who were meant to lead us to healing led us to harm, we have lost faith in priests. The profession has not been adequately policed, and part of the tragic aftermath of this has been that modern approaches to change leadership miss the healing, renewing piece. 

One of the reasons I love Francis of Assisi is because he helped heal broken trust with spiritual leaders. He provided a version of this kind of leadership that was radically authentic, sacrificial and honest, which he quickly scaled to tens of thousands.

It was raw, bare-footed and humble.

It was minimalist, creative and joyful.

It was for everyone – rich a poor – those who went to church and those who did not.

The group that I gathered with at the Systemic Renewal Residency this year, helped me to see that I need to get back to the cry of my heart that led to this whole endeavour in the first place. Our Academy will be built on the sacrificial giving of brothers and sisters who are true, modern, safe priests and pastors. And like the early Franciscans, we are going to offer our services for free.

I know it’s crazy.

And that is exactly why it is going to work, and it is going to work big.

In 2026 we are going to train our first 12 Coaches in Systemic Renewal – pastors and priests who will serve leaders in disadvantaged settings for free. From there, we will move to training 100, 200 and more. Reach out to me if this resonates with you and watch this space! 

The above photo depicts my husband, Adam, and I, attending the Installation of our new Archbishop Ric Thorpe at St Paul's Cathedral, Melbourne. We are in our forties. Adam has olive skin and dark brown hair and I have long blonde hair. We are wearing our black and white robes.