John Lyman - The Secret Chapel

Around the back, a sparkling blue swimming pool bordered by tall palm trees separated the house from the sand dunes and the sea. Red-tiled roofs of several dozen smaller houses dotted the landscape, along with vineyards, orchards, and rows of planted fields.

People of various ages could be seen walking about the property, the most noticeable being the young men and women of the villa’s security force dressed in olive-colored shirts and matching shorts with automatic weapons slung over their shoulders.

Within minutes of their arrival, the car was surrounded by a group of young people who greeted Lev with laughter and hugs. It was becoming evident to Leo that this man was loved by almost everyone who came into contact with him.

John was just waking up in the backseat. He lifted himself upright and rubbed his eyes, blinking in the sunlight at his surroundings. A smiling group approached the passenger side of the vehicle and opened the doors. They giggled and motioned for Leo and John to follow. “Come with us. We’ll show you to your rooms.”

Walking toward the villa, Lev stopped and looked back at Leo. “Why don’t you two go enjoy a few beers on the beach, Father? We’ll find some swimming trunks for you both. I’ll call you when lunch is ready.”

With that, Lev turned and walked into the villa, leaving a bewildered Leo and John at the mercy of their giggling captors.

The shallow turquoise water of the Mediterranean Sea stretched before Leo and John as they reclined on weathered beach chairs beneath a ragged blue umbrella stuck in the sand. Bathed in the warmth of the moist sea air, Leo squinted in the reflected sunlight and retrieved a cold Israeli beer from the cooler beside him.

“This reminds me of those TV ads for Mexican beer,” John said. “You know, the one’s where two people are staring at the ocean in silence with two bottles of beer on a table between them.”

“Except one of them is a girl in a white bikini, and I don’t see anyone who looks like that around.”

“No kidding. That brings up a little problem I’ve been wrestling with lately, Father.”

Leo lifted his sunglasses up on his head and looked over at his young friend. “What problem would that be, John?”

“Well, for one, why does the Church continue to insist that priests remain celibate? It’s just not natural. I mean, don’t you think there would be fewer problems with priests and the way people are starting to view them if they were allowed to marry or have girlfriends?”

“I guess that depends on who you’re talking to,” Leo said. “If you’re talking to those in authority at the Vatican, then the answer would be no. If you’re a young man looking at the priesthood, then I think the answer might be different.”

John picked up a small sea shell from beside his chair and threw it toward the water. “I guess I’m just hoping that someday, the leaders in the Catholic Church will come to their senses and do away with that bizarre and archaic requirement. Priests should be allowed to have women in their lives. How have you managed to cope with it all these years, Father?”

Leo replaced the sunglasses over his eyes and gazed out at the water. “I haven’t always been a saint.”

“You, Leo?”

“That’s what confession and absolution are all about, my son. I’ve had two serious relationships in the past.”

“With women?” John’s eyes were getting wider by the second.

“No, I’m gay. Want some suntan lotion on your back?” Leo was trying hard to keep a straight face.

Like a freshly caught fish that had just landed on the deck of a boat, John’s eyes were bulging and his mouth moved without speaking.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Leo burst out laughing so hard he came close to spewing beer through his nose. “Of course with women. I was talking about the years before I became a priest, when I was in college. It was more difficult for me when I was your age. I’ve always loved women. Still do. But my ability to put my personal desires in perspective with my role in life has become easier with age. Being a priest is a learning process. You don’t automatically become a pillar of virtue the day you take your vows. God knows that we are imperfect beings, and he makes allowances for us. I’ve never believed that the whole celibacy thing should be a central tenet to the priesthood, but I’ve always kept my vows.”

“Wow,” John said, looking relieved. “You just described what I’m going through right now. I think about meeting the right woman, getting married, having kids, all of it. I just hope I make the right decision this summer before I enter seminary in the fall.”

“You’ll find your way, John. Whatever you decide, priest or no priest, you have a good heart. If you want to be a husband and father, I know you’ll be one of the best. If you become a priest, you’ll be a great one.”

“Lunch,” a twenty-something girl shouted at the two from the dunes. She had long brown hair and was wearing a white blouse and skintight khaki shorts. She giggled at John before turning her back and running off toward the villa.

John shot Leo a glance and moaned. “See what I mean?”

Leo smiled. He knew the struggle this young man would face in the months ahead would be difficult. It was possible the Church would lose another promising candidate for the priesthood due to its antiquated views of marriage and priests. For now, Leo just wanted an answer to the question of why they were here, and so far, no one seemed to have one.

Beers in hand, they retreated from the beach across a rickety boardwalk that ran through the dunes toward the villa. In the distance, Leo noticed the sun’s reflection glinting off something nestled in the dunes farther down the beach. He shielded his eyes with his hands and peered out over the sea swept landscape. Nothing moved. Whatever he had seen was now gone, and the burning heat from the sun-baked boardwalk against his bare feet made him step up his pace. The sound of laughter coming from the villa, along with the aroma of meat cooking on an outdoor grill, put an end to Leo’s thoughts about the shining object in the distance as he headed toward the promise of a delicious meal.

Arriving by the pool, Leo and John stopped and stared at a long buffet table piled high with food. There were bowls nestled in ice and filled with Jerusalem salad, a delicious concoction that included olives, feta, pomegranate, and za’atar , a seasoning of hyssop and sesame seeds sprinkled with kosher salt. Wide platters ringed with lime wedges held grilled tilapia, known locally as Saint Peter’s fish.

There were mounds of pita bread next to bowls of hummus, olive oil, minced garlic, and freshly picked lemons from the groves around the villa. Shashlik , spiced ground meat on skewers, along with kebabs of cubed lamb and beef, sizzled on the grill nearby, while dishes of pickled vegetables and baba ghanoush were spaced throughout the buffet next to heaps of freshly picked fruit.

Under big yellow umbrellas, Israeli and French wines populated linen-covered tables, while ice-filled metal tubs holding Cokes and bottles of water were stationed nearby on the stone patio floor. People of all ages were lounging beside the pool, enjoying the feast and the comfortable familiarity of being surrounded by friends who were more like family. The atmosphere had the feel of a holiday to it.

“I think we must have died at the beach and this is heaven,” John said.

Leo nodded in agreement as they piled as much food on their plates as room allowed and fell into some poolside lounge chairs. Reaching for a bottle of cold water, Leo noticed Lev standing next to the villa talking to a group of exceptionally fit-looking men. Judging by their appearance, the priest took them for military types.