As a Protestant, and as the President of a seminary known for its commitment to progressive theology, my reaction is deeply divided about the sexual abuse crisis that is currently shaking the Roman Catholic Church in Europe and the United States. Watching the disturbing details of cover-ups by clergy -- even those at the highest levels -- unfold during Holy Week, of all times, I can't decide whether to cry out in despair or be ever-so-slightly optimistic that real changes may result from this tragedy. Most days, I feel both.
Tears come easily when I think of the abuse and the horrifying realization that some within the church clearly believe that protecting priests is more important than safeguarding children. When I think of Jesus suffering during Holy Week, it is the broken bodies of children, betrayed by their own religious leaders, that come to mind. They bear the crosses of the church's abuses of power.
That said, I also weep because this latest sex scandal adds to our distrust of religious leadership in general and keeps us from remembering all the good work the Roman Catholic church does for the poor, hungry, and homeless, and has done for many decades. I am personally indebted to countless nuns and priests I've encountered over the years, who patiently taught me what it means to "stand with the least of these." In the twentieth century, especially, it was Roman Catholics rather than liberal, so-called "Main Line" Protestants who more often found spiritual grounds for social justice.
I think of Dorothy Day and the Catholic Worker Movement that began during the depths of the Great Depression, and which continues today to give care and comfort to the forsaken. I think of Thomas Merton and his outspoken protest of the Vietnam War. I think of the Catholic bishops who stood side by side with César Chávez in his fight for justice among the farm workers of California's Central Valley. I think of Archbishop Óscar Romero and the struggles of San Salvador. And I think of blighted neighborhoods across America where all-but-ignored nuns, priests, and committed laypeople offer hope to the nearly hopeless through soup kitchens, schools, and community centers. For them, and for energetic Catholic women I work with and teach -- so unjustly banned from a priesthood that sorely needs them -- the importance of justice-making always exceeds the importance of collars and confessions.
Tragedies come and go; issues like labor and immigration burn bright in the public consciousness for a time and then are forgotten. Long after the rest of the world has moved on, however, often enough the Catholic Church alone continues to affirm economic justice, offer a moral critique of capitalism, and, most importantly, insist that a radical love of the powerless and marginalized is the truest form of faith.
All this makes these latest reports of priests molesting children -- and getting away with it -- that much more upsetting. Will the faithful work done by so many Catholics be overshadowed by a church hierarchy that goes on the defensive when questioned about cover-ups and complicity? I pray this will not be the case. I also pray that the church might change for the better as a result of these terrible discoveries. And I pray, too, for the deep, ongoing grief -- indeed, belly-wrenching lamentation -- suffered by so many everyday Catholics who feel betrayed by their own leadership.
Yes, I am shocked, angered, and saddened by these latest allegations. But I'm also slightly relieved to think that we may finally have come to the end of the line. How much higher up can a scandal go, after all, than implicating those standing at the very top? And, I breathe a bit easier in anticipation that a chastening bright light may be about to shine into previously impenetrable realms of the Roman Catholic hierarchy.
As a Protestant, I refuse to throw self-righteous stones against Catholics. Disregard for public accountability is dangerous, in any form. It is not only in politics that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. No church is immune. No person is.
The Catholicism I cherish -- and the Catholicism that the world so desperately needs -- is one that models an unguarded honesty about human failing, a gentleness of spirit that welcomes criticism, and a determination to hold all people, no matter their station, accountable for their actions.
This is the lesson of Holy Week, and it is one that Christians all -- bishops, popes, and pew-sitters alike -- would do well to consider carefully in the days ahead.
And for those who say, let he who is without sin, cast the first stone. I don't accept sin as a needed function in my life, so yes, I am without sin.
I believe in the religion of reason ... Robert Ingersoll
Seems like they have more faith in the religious rituals and words than in the hierarchy of the church. It is the belief that carries them on - not the priests and others, up to and including the pope.
What I cannot understand iswhat we, as volunteers, are required to do if we suspect sexual abuse in a home while we are there to help the family. Our first call is to be to LAW ENFORCEMENT - and we are instructed that we are NOT to call anyone at the diocese, since the investigation might be tainted or the abuser be warned and leave the area.
If we are required to to this, why are the priests, bishops, archbishops, monsignors and even the pope supposed to follow the same rule?
Of course, if someone were without sin, they would not be here, would they?
For the church to even think about preaching to others about sin is laughable. Any moral authority they had, has clearly been destroyed. The church denies communion to Catholics supporting abortion rights or who are open about their homosexuality, but has no problem giving the sacraments to Priests who've molested children? Shouldn't preying on children, covering up the abuse of children, and shuffling child molesters from parish to parish qualify as sin? Does the Pope allow himself to take holy communion, when he subjected children to the ra pe by Priests that the church knew to be pedophiles?
Truly an organization beyond repair. If they believed what they preach, they'd sell their assets and give to needy and abused children throughout the world, as a final act of contrition. They don't of course, so the gold crosses on the golden staffs the Pope carries will remain. Abuse will continue. And the Church will claim that it is they that are persecuted.
News to me, but if it makes you feel better.......
In the 60's their was an Ecumenical Movement that made great strides in bringing the different denominations together, the recent Pope has destroyed that. and we see the Christainity of the middle ages once again.
[Associated Baptist Press article, as quoted Jennifer Graham, Knight-Ridder Newspaper, in "Mork from Ork is going to hell? Some scholars say extraterrestrials would be tainted by original sin."]