The Power and the Glory

"....for the kingdom, the power and the glory are Yours, now and forever. Amen." Following the Lord's Prayer with this line has been a part of every Sunday since I was a child. Graham Greene’s title immediately suggests that the power and the glory, which belong to God, are being questioned. I think it adds to the title to consider other lines of the prayer, such as, "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” The “whiskey priest” both seeks and offers forgiveness through the sacrament of confession. However, he reveals the quandary of the confessional: if a person is not truly sorry, then he cannot confess the sin. If he cannot confess the sin, then how can he be forgiven for the transgression? The “whiskey priest” is not sorry that he has a daughter because he loves her deeply, so he cannot bring himself to confess her conception as a sin because he is not sorry that he brought her into the world. He says to her, “I love you. I am your father and I love you. Try to understand that. I would give my life, that’s nothing, my soul…my dear, dear, try to understand that you are – so important” (82). His words would be moving except that his actions do not support his words.

His daughter seems to doubt the sincerity of his words. “She sat there on the trunk of the tree by the rubbish-tip with an effect of abandonment. The world was in her heart already, like the small spot of decay in a fruit” (81). The priest is saddened by her lack of faith in him or in life, but he lacks the courage to be a good father to her just as he lacks the courage to be a good Father to the Catholic congregation at large. Even in prayer he is not really honest when “He prayed silently, ‘O God, give me any kind of death –without contrition, in a state of sin – only save this child’” (82). Again his words seem hollow since he leaves his daughter, contemplates the possibility of confessing and makes an act of contrition before his death. In another sin against a child, he also allows a boy to be taken hostage rather than stepping forward and identifying himself as a priest. The most unbelievable aspect of that scene is the fact that the boy’s own mother allows her son to be taken to be killed rather than identifying the priest. The priest is only human, and a flawed human at that, so how can his life be greater in importance than another life, especially the innocent life of a child? For me, this scene is far more despicable than his drinking.

The lack of contentment that leads to his drinking suggests a lack of faith as well. If he needs to numb himself in order to tolerate life, he must not see the power and glory of God. He feels a certain sense of duty as a priest, particularly to hear people’s confessions. He needs a confessor, so he sees the importance of providing that sacrament. However, he is incapable of confessing. Juxtaposed with a greater coward, Padre Jose, the “whiskey priest” seems as if he might redeem himself, but he never quite does that. Yes, he goes back to hear the confession of the Yankee with the knowledge that the mestizo is leading him to his death, but it feels more like resignation on his part than an honorable act. He does not appear to be accepting his death as a dutiful priest as much as he seems to be giving up.

The whiskey priest offers little hope, but he does expose important questions of faith. I think questioning faith can make it stronger as in the case of the little boy who considers converting to the lieutenant’s way of thinking, but decides that his mother is right about priests. That little boy’s acceptance of the priest at the end of the book implies that killing priests will not put Catholicism to death. Faith cannot be buried. Confession, a sacrament in the Catholic faith, is significant in the spiritual journey: “...Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, and deliver us from evil. For the kingdom, the power and the glory are Yours for ever and ever. Amen.”