When there are no clean socks in drawers, it falls squarely on my shoulders. When my five-year-old can’t tie his shoes or read “at his level,” it’s also my fault. When my food menus leave much to be desired, the wagons begin to circle in protest around one lonely soul, and that soul is me.

These are all little problems in the grand scheme of things. Like priests, homeschooling mothers have willingly taken on an intense level of responsibility and both hear all about their shortcomings and unfinished tasks, frequently.

But unlike priests, we mothers have recourse to a (please God) supportive, loving, and hardworking helpmate and broader community support system. Many priests have no such structures.

Early missionaries to Canada confronted an impossible climate and many obstacles in their early encounters with their “new flock,” but early handwritten accounts detail strong fraternal bonds between the priests who blazed the trails in the New World.

If I don’t perform to the liking of the masses (pun definitely intended), I have recourse to many various outlets for encouragement and support. There are days where we all need to rely heavily on the encouragement and prayers of holy friends.

So many parish priests have no such structures or support systems in place.

And they are breaking under the pressure.

The reality is that Canada is in a vocational crisis and has been for some time. Instead of treasuring the few faithful, young priests we have been given, we are killing their vocations by refusing to treat them as finite human beings who are entitled to a sane workload. They are experiencing death by meetings and decision fatigue on all fronts.

By the age of 40, many rural Canadian priests have more than one parish, and the especially-capable priests are given extra responsibilities like spearheading homecare options for aging priests, running diocesan restructuring committees, and vocational outreach – on top of hospital calls, marriages, and baptisms (think of each item I’ve just mentioned as a small business workload, then give each priest six at a time).

I’ve recently spoken with several burnt out and desperate priests, and two things are clear: Canadian Catholics do not understand the nature of the priesthood, and we are bleeding our priests dry.

We are refusing to be creative and we are failing to reserve priestly energies for the administration of the sacraments and for ministry to the people of God. Priests are not businessmen. They are not PR specialists. They are not social media/ tech gurus. They are not maintenance men. They were ordained for the express purpose of shepherding God’s people during their earthly pilgrimage.

How did we get to this point? In much the same way as teachers have become social workers; by saying yes to good things but not keeping the best things in sharp focus. When we say yes to all of the good things, we become ineffective and exhausted, losing our zeal for the mission because we can no longer recognize the mission.

We can do so many amazing things in the name of God, but if we do them without love, we are a clashing cymbal. And clashing cymbals lead to empty churches. If we are focusing on evangelizing and, miracle of miracles, the people do come, who will feed them? The starving man at the altar who can’t speak to anyone after Mass because he needs to make tracks to his next Mass in 20 minutes two towns over?

Lay people: let’s pray for our priests. But more than that, let’s come up with a tangible way to lighten their loads. Write to your bishop if you are concerned. Let’s pray for wisdom and generosity in our parishes as we await the springtime of faith that will surely come as people continue to recognize their need for God.

In the meantime, let’s batten down the hatches and pray for our priests’ consolation during this great Canadian winter of vocations. Beg the Lord of the harvest to send labourers (not administrators) into the vineyard.

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