Shoe Salesman

Shoe Salesman

Overlooking the Mississippi River, the grey concrete structure of the Archdiocesan office stood in architectural contrast to the stately 19^th century mansions on Summit Avenue. Designed as a functional office space for church administration, it earned the title as a place that was built on a hill but run on a bluff.

On a bleak March morning, I found myself in that building standing in front of the Archbishop explaining why I wanted to take a leave of absence from my priestly duties. Dressed in my best black suit and Roman collar, I explained to his Excellency that I was in a dire emotional state and unable to carry on with my pastoral responsibilities.

The coldness of the concrete building mirrored the Archbishop’s attitude. Having listened to my request, he proceeded to lecture me not only on my obligations as a priest but that I was lax in my prayer life as well. I was warned that unless I immediately returned to work I would be a disgrace to the Church.

Being somewhat naïve, I was hoping for some empathy. The meeting ended with these words from the Archbishop: “If you leave the priesthood, you will end up just being a shoe salesman.” Those words, a curse, struck my heart. As I came away from that meeting, it became clear that my life would be forever changed.

The irony of this story is that many years later I did become a shoe salesman. While pastoring a church in Havre, Montana, I worked part time at Cavaliers Men's store. During those nine years of employment I sold a lot of shoes. I can attest that shoe salesmanship is an honorable profession.

I am reminded of these words from the Book of Proverbs: “An undeserved curse has no effect. Its intended victim will be no more harmed by it than by a sparrow or swallow flitting through the sky.”

I have learned to be careful of the words I speak!