By Ricardo Izquierdo
Director of the Office of Hispanic Ministry
When I entered seminary at the age of 17 in the fall of 2007, I thought of myself as a “pastoral” person. I thought that I could be a charismatic priest who would save at least one soul, a goal that would make a lifetime of work worth it. Alas, I left formation after six years, and it took me a long time to find my place in the secular world. I went back to school to get my master’s degree in secondary education, having experienced teaching through my apostolates in seminary and in Totus Tuus. Again, my idealistic self thought I’d be a dynamic teacher who would guide youth toward Christ.
After marrying, and teaching for three years in Council Bluffs, Iowa, our first daughter was born, and I wanted to return to the Diocese of Lincoln. I had a choice between a teaching position and my current job as director of the office of Hispanic ministry, and I chose the latter. The pattern repeated as I thought I could single-handedly reinvigorate this important ministry.
I still saw myself as a savior figure, and it hurt to see my pastoral efforts not bear much fruit in the first years of my job. There were some small victories, but I was surviving, not thriving. I started to realize that maybe I am not a “pastoral” person, but that my strengths lie in bureaucracy and in getting things done at a desk. That was a change in my own sense of self. It wasn’t glorious. Not many saints are praised for what they got done in a diocesan office. But maybe that is where I was called to be.
This summer I learned that a substantial part of my job would shift toward tribunal work, concerning annulments. It may not be a surprise to most of you that most priests find Canon Law dull. I certainly thought so when I was in seminary. However, now that I see the different strengths I have, I can also see how they match up with the priorities of the diocese.
The need is easy to understand: Hispanic annulment cases get bogged down for cultural and linguistic reasons, and the tribunal just needed someone to get them unstuck.
The parties – the petitioner and the respondent – and the witnesses of a case are usually contacted via mail. They each respond to a lengthy questionnaire about the background of the parties, and their relationship and marriage. Those answers are sent back to the tribunal to include in the file to be judged. Sometimes, witnesses prefer to answer over the phone or in person, which is easy enough in English cases, but not in Spanish ones. Some of the tribunal personnel can read Spanish, but not speak it fluently. That’s where I come in.
I can take the testimony of the witnesses, or in the case of the parties, their deposition. I had no idea there was a difference. It had been 12 years since I last took a Canon Law class at Mount St. Mary’s. But now that I am far older and no longer think Canon Law is boring, I have found this work engaging and worthwhile. Father Steven Snitily, who is the diocesan judicial vicar, and Marilyn Friesen, the tribunal administrative assistant, have been patiently teaching me the inner workings of the annulment process, and it’s been surprisingly fascinating.
My direct supervisor, Father Caleb La Rue, vicar general, explained to me that it was a shame that Spanish annulment cases took far longer than English cases. To see many couples unable to receive the sacraments because of their irregular state showed the need for someone to help. The great thing about it is that it is real ministry work. Father La Rue, vicar general, said the tribunal can provide a tangible sign of God’s mercy to these couples, so it is indeed part of the healing function of the Church, even if it is done at a desk.
It’s not necessarily easy work. After I take the testimonies or the depositions, the next step is to transcribe the conversations to text, which can be tedious and repetitive, but is not terribly difficult. The hard task is hearing some of the sad parts of couples’ stories. The reality is that if couples are applying for a declaration of nullity, something went wrong. Sometimes, very wrong.
Thankfully, I am not a judge, and I don’t have a say in whether the annulment is granted, but I confess I still take those things harder than I’d like. It’s probably just part of being new at this kind of work, and chances are, I’ll learn as my experience grows. Overall, however, I am grateful for the opportunity to serve the diocese in this function.
