gravity of the step they were about to take.
There was a mere modicum of difficulty in arranging for a canonical Catholic marriage. Challenging the validity of such a marriage would be next to impossible. Koesler wanted them to know that.
For as this carefree young couple left the rectory, an older couple entered with a serious problem that might well face just such an impossibility.
At the door, Martha Morris identified herself and introduced her husband to Father Koesler.
The priest led the way to his small office almost at the end of the hall. The farthest door in this hallway led directly into the church. Rectory, church, and convent were joined. Cozy. That’s the way the pastor liked things, and he’d had the buildings constructed to his liking.
Once they were settled in, Koesler commenced. “As I told you on the phone, I got a letter from your nephew. So I was waiting for your call. Vince didn’t give me much information … I guess he couldn’t really. So …?”
“You’ll have to excuse us, Father,” Martha said. “We’re very nervous. We look at you as our last hope. It’s … well, if this doesn’t work, we’ll be at the end of the line.”
“You shouldn’t feel that way.” The last thing Koesler wanted was to be “the end of the line.” He would, of course, do his best. But he wasn’t an ultimate expert. He was shy of experience-very shy. Still, there were all those books on the shelves behind him. He found it encouraging that he could depend on them for whatever he lacked in age and experience.
“But, begging your pardon, Father,” Frank said deferentially, “we’re more than a little scared. We’ve told our story to a priest before-or at least we tried to-”
“You tried to? What do you mean, you ‘tried to’? Which priest did you see?”
“Our pastor,” Martha said. “Or at least the pastor of the parish we live in. He had no patience with us. We barely got started when he practically threw us out of the rectory.”
“And your parish is …?”
“Nativity … the one next door to this parish.”
Nativity, thought Koesler. Father Keller. That bastard again!
Koesler hadn’t needed to be ordained to be made aware of Keller’s reputation. Keller was the third in a triumvirate of tyrannical east side pastors who were known as virtual autocratic Nazis.
Well, Koesler thought, at least I can start from scratch. The fact that Keller had treated a couple of well- meaning people like trash had absolutely no bearing on the legitimacy of their case.
“We thought,” Frank said, “that it might be very simple. I’m not a Catholic-nor was my first wife a Catholic. Just a couple of people not even married by a minister; we had a justice of the peace. We-Martha and I-figured the Catholic Church wasn’t concerned about a marriage that had absolutely nothing to do with the Church.”
Koesler shook his head slowly. “That’s not the way it works, Frank.”
“Well,” Frank said, “at least we’re making progress. Right about here was where Father Keller threw us out.”
They all laughed. It eased some of the tension.
“We go to church regularly,” Martha said. “Sundays and Holy Days. When Father Keller sees us, he sort of curls his lip. But at least he doesn’t tell us to get out.”
“That’s because he doesn’t tell us anything,” Frank added.
Martha seemed suddenly apprehensive. “This won’t cause a problem, will it?”
“What sort of problem?”
“Well, a problem for you. Will you get in trouble because you’re taking care of us? I’m kind of worried that Father Keller will be upset.”
“No, that won’t happen,” Koesler stated firmly. “It wouldn’t happen in any case. But especially since you did see him and he refused to even consider your case.”
Privately, Koesler mused about how wonderful it would be to wrap up this package and toss it back to Keller. If this couple’s marriage could be convalidated with Koesler’s guidance and help, it would be worth the price of admission to see Keller’s face when he inevitably found out what had happened.
Koesler pushed aside a mess of papers-notes, mail, and the like-from the center of his small desk. He picked up a pen and pulled a yellow legal pad toward him, looked at Frank and Martha, and said in an upbeat tone, “Well, let’s see what we’ve got …”
The Morrises inched their chairs closer to the desk.
“A little while ago,” Koesler addressed Frank, “you said you thought that since the Catholic Church was not involved with your first marriage, that the Church would not recognize that marriage. Actually, the opposite is true: The Catholic Church actually recognizes any legal marriage ceremony as being valid.”
Frank look amazed. “That’s rather open-minded of the Church.”
“But it doesn’t work to your advantage, Frank.”
“How’s that?”
“Take your first marriage. The Church accepts that ceremony, no matter how it was performed-as long as whoever performed it was recognized by the state of Michigan-as a valid-real-marriage. That means that, in the eyes of the Church, before you can marry again you must prove that the first marriage is null. That for some specific reason-and there are only a few reasons the Church will consider-an impediment-a block-obstructed the validity of that marriage.”
“These ‘specific reasons,’ Father: What are they?” Martha asked.
“First, Martha: Are you sure you want to sit in on this?” Koesler asked. “It can get a bit … personal.”
“I want to be here.”
“I want her here,” Frank affirmed.
“Okay.” Koesler nodded. “Now, a lot of these impediments are quite obviously not applicable here. Holy Orders, for instance, is a serious impediment.”
“You mean-” Martha began.
“That because I am a priest, I may not marry. But …” He thought for a moment. “Okay, maybe I can explain it this way: Suppose I get married. And suppose later on, I get divorced. After which, my ex-wife wants to marry someone else in a Catholic ceremony. The Church starts out by presuming that a marriage exists. Now, my ex-wife has to prove to the Church’s satisfaction that our union-well, that it was not a marriage-in other words, that no marriage existed. So she proves that at the time of our marriage ceremony, I was a priest. The Church would immediately grant her an annulment. Because in the eyes of the Church, there was no marriage between me and that woman-because, as a priest validly ordained by the Catholic Church, I am not, in the eyes of that Church, allowed to marry. Therefore, she, in effect, never married, so she is free to marry.
“Now, that’s what we want to find in your marriage to-what is her name?”
“Mildred. Do you need her maiden name?”
“No …” Koesler smiled. “I was just getting tired of referring to her as ‘that woman.’”
Koesler then began to tick off various possible impediments: consanguinity-if she were a close relative; if she refused to have children; if she were previously married; etc.
It reminded Frank of the questions asked before some medical procedure. Have you ever had mumps, measles, whooping cough, etc.?
To both series of questions, Frank’s answer would be, No. He’d had-oddly-no childhood diseases, nor had his first marriage involved any of the possible impediments Koesler mentioned. “No,” he said aloud.
Questionnaire concluded, Koesler said, “I was afraid of that.” Noting their disappointment, he added, “But we’re not done.
“Frank, what was there about your marriage to Mildred that didn’t work? In your own words, what made the marriage fail?”
“That’s a pretty big question, Father.” He thought for some time. Finally, he said, “Incompatibility … incompatibility that started early on and just got worse. We were great in bed”-his face reddened but he went on-“but after that, in just about everything else, the two of us could have been living on different planets.”
“Did you have any children?”
“No. Neither of us wanted kids. The way things turned out it was a lucky break we didn’t have any-say, Father: Could that be one of those impediments? I know the Church doesn’t look too kindly on birth control …”
“’Fraid not, Frank. Now, was there anything the two of you differed on or argued about a lot?”
Frank pondered. “Seems religion came up every so often,” he said slowly.
