Marriages involving clergy members can suffer from heavy workloads just like any other, but being in the public eye can add to the strain, writes Kate Holmquist
Career pressure is a factor in many marriage break-ups: the emotional and financial consequences can be devastating - but when one of the partners is a member of the clergy, the outcome of a split may be even worse than in conventional secular marriages.
Having parted from his wife, with whom he has three children, the Right Rev Peter Barrett resigned as the Church of Ireland Bishop of Cashel and Ossory last month. "I am no longer able to cherish my marriage with the love my supportive wife, Anne, so deserves. As a result, I shall be separating from her of my own volition," he stated.
Rev Ted Woods, happily married rector in Rathfarnham in Dublin and former chairman of the Church of Ireland's Marriage Council, is familiar with "quite a number" of such situations. He thinks that the greatest pressure on clergy marriages is the long work hours, which can lead to clergy neglecting their marriages. Now that most clergy spouses work outside the home, the couple may see very little of each other.
Without commenting specifically on any particular situation, Woods says: "Clergy marriages break down like any other. People may think 'shock horror', but clergy are still normal people. It is the reality today that marriages are under more stress than they were in the past. I think parishioners are understanding. It shows that clergy are vulnerable like anyone else. It makes us more real."
The spouses and children of clergy have the double-blow of having to leave their homes as a result of the separation, because the rectory must remain the residence of the rector. Rev Woods's wife of nine years, Rev Anne Taylor, curate in Rathfarnham, describes the spouse's predicament when separated or widowed: "You are leaving what you called home, you are leaving your support system and your community and your role behind you. The children have to leave their schools and their friends. It's also very public, so it can be like suddenly finding yourself in an episode of Emmerdale, especially in small, rural communities."
Rev Woods and Rev Taylor live and work as a team at Rathfarnham rectory, having lunch together most days to make up for the fact that most evenings and weekends are occupied by church-related meetings and activities. They first met in 1991 when Rev Taylor was at theological college and worked as a counsellor at a youth camp run by Rev Woods. After her ordination, Rev Taylor applied for the post of curate at Rathfarnham, where Rev Woods lived with his first wife, Evelyn, who died in 1995. After Rev Woods was widowed, the platonic friendship between himself and Anne blossomed into romance.
Today, theirs is a 24-hour, 365-day per year commitment to the parish, although they do try to take one day off a week together. "Your home is your office, so you can't close the door on work responsibilities as easily as in a normal job. We have a need to be needed, which puts us at risk of extending ourselves if we're not careful," says Rev Woods.
To nurture their marriage - and to avoid burn-out - one day per week they retreat to their house in Wexford with their two black Labradors and spend time enjoying each other as individuals. "We are in a much more fortunate position than a lot of people, so it strengthens us," says Rev Woods.
The lives of clergy and their families are conducted in the public eye. "Some people expect you to get it right, as if you live in cloudland where normal pressures don't apply," says Rev Taylor.
But there are advantages too. Being at the centre of a supportive parish was a boon for Rev Susan Green, part-time chaplain at Tallaght hospital, and her husband, Rev Andrew Orr, rector of Castleknock and Mulhuddart with Clonsilla in Dublin, when she suffered a benign brain tumour two years ago and spent three months in hospital. "The parish organised a rota to look after our three children and my husband got great support from both the parish and the church authorities. It's true that sometimes you think everyone is watching you, but at the same time you have the benefit of a community of supportive people," says Rev Green.
"We are always at the centre of things, which is great for the kids because they know lots of people and there's always something going on and the kids feel very connected, which is getting more unusual in our society. We are fortunate to have a way of life and to be part of a network; with a common sense of values."
The traditional rector's wife functioned almost as an unpaid curate, running the Mothers' Union and other activities. Rev Green, although a very modern clergywoman, still finds time to work with the church's mother and toddler group, where she made her close, personal friends. "We are very busy, but there's a buzz we enjoy. To be honest, after having a brain tumour everything afterwards is a walk in the park."
Rev Orr, Rev Green's husband, says that the secret to their fulfilling marriage is that they keep their jobs and their marriage as separate as they can. "The workload is demanding and the hours are anti-social, but I manage to keep Mondays free as a family day. The long hours mean that the spouse can feel they take second place to the parish. Unless the priest is rigorous about dividing private time from parish time, it can be a strain on the spouse who feels neglected." He has seen "quite a few" marriages break up amongst clergy. "In the past, marriage problems were hidden in the rectory, but today people don't put up with unhappy situations," he says.
"The reasons are multi-faceted, but usually due to the couple lacking separate private and public space, and to the clergy spouse's work commitments making the other spouse feel neglected," Rev Orr adds. As for the pressures on himself and Rev Green, he says: "I think everybody's marriage is different and the pressures on people are very severe in a lot of cases. I wouldn't say there's more pressure on us, but they are different pressures, such as the long hours. But I do think that being married with children helps to create a rounded ministry, it makes it easier to be in touch with your own feelings and it gives you huge support. It grounds you."
Male spouses of women priests are shy about talking to the media because they are keen on keeping their identities separate. Like female spouses of clergy, male spouses may either be very involved in the parish, or detached within their own professional sphere. Most parishioners no longer expect the spouse to be an unpaid church worker.
Being the rector of Rathangan and Carbury, Co Kildare, as well as Clonbullogue and Edenderry, Co Offaly, would be impossible, says Rev Lynda Peilow, without her supportive "new man" husband, Clive Gardiner. About to give birth to her second child, she says people stop and stare when they see her in her "uniform". Being a wife and mother enhances her ministry, Rev Peilow believes.
"It's a terribly rewarding life. I'm married to my soul-mate and the love of my life. I'm a mother and I am doing the job I have always wanted to do. The parishioners understand that there are pressures on me, but they also know that I'm dedicated to them in every way possible. I give 110 per cent of myself to my parish and 110 per cent of myself to my family."
The only downside is that her daughter Chloe (3) is cared for during the day by a full-time nanny. Last Easter, Rev Peilow went for three weeks without getting home early enough to put Chloe to bed.
"It has always felt unnatural to me to leave my child to go out to work. Leaving two children, when I return from maternity leave, is going to be very difficult for me. I have to accept it because I have this vocation and I need to be serving God's people. To be a rector is a full-time job and you don't clock in and clock out.
"Clive shares me with the parish, but he knew what he was getting into totally," she says, adding: "He is deeply involved in the parish because he wants to be - people have a tendency to assume that he's a priest. I think that people are attracted to the Church of Ireland by the fact that as a church we are so open, positive and forward-looking."
