What would Jesus do?

An open letter to my brothers and sisters in Christ

Many of my friends stopped actively practicing Catholicism long ago.  When the findings of the grand jury’s investigation into clergy abuse were reported last August, it sealed it for them.  They felt validated that they had done the right thing when they walked away from the Church.

With each passing day, we learn more of the extent and depravity of the horrific acts of sexual abuse committed against our children.   We also learn of the equally shocking and shameful institutional failures that allowed it to continue.  The Church failed our children and betrayed our trust.  It not only hid the abuse but it harbored the predators.   In failing to rid the Church of pedophiles, it put other children at risk.   

“Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness but instead expose them.”

Ephesians 5:11

What’s more is that the many survivors of abuse have not been given justice.  The Church’s failure to own these incredibly shameful and horrific crimes against so many souls has compounded survivors’ lifelong suffering.  The Church enabled and defended the indefensible.  And in doing so, they didn’t just throw salt in the wounds; they tore open new wounds, boring through survivors’ hearts and souls.

My conflict as a Catholic is intensely personal.   My father was a survivor of clergy abuse.  My family endured the reverberating effects of that abuse.  I know firsthand that the suffering inflicted by clergy sexual abuse doesn’t end with the victimized child.  Its effects are felt by their spouses and their children.  There is a trail of pain that follows every survivor.

And despite all of this, I am an avowed Catholic.  To say, I feel conflicted would be putting it mildly.  I feel horrible sorrow for the survivors.  I feel anger and indignation.  I feel ashamed.

For the first time in my life, I remember feeling embarrassed to admit I was a Catholic the day after the grand jury’s report was released.  And then I felt guilty for feeling ashamed of being a Catholic. 

So, when a friend asked, “How can you possibly stay?”

I didn’t know how to respond. 

I wasn’t having a crisis of faith.  My beliefs as a Catholic hadn’t changed.   I was having a crisis of trust in the institutional church.

And I wanted to know what does God expect of me?    If I do nothing, aren’t I guilty of turning a blind eye?  Does my attendance at Mass equate to condoning these acts of evil and their equally evil coverups?  How do I stand against this injustice without betraying my “obligations” as a Catholic?  How do I show respect, support and solidarity to our most wounded brothers and sisters while I continue going to Mass as if nothing changed?   How do I tell survivors and their families– who have been caused such extreme, pain and suffering– how do I tell them that I am truly sorry this happened–again?  That I do not condone, excuse, rationalize or minimize any acts of abuse or failure to take appropriate action?  That I am filled with sorrow and regret that we failed to protect our flock against the abuse?  How do I acknowledge the tragic, lifelong impact of the devastating effects that such abuse has on a survivor?

Gradually, as I opened up to friends over the past few months, I have learned I am not alone in my feelings.  

There must be a way to reconcile the conflicted myriad of feelings which are evoked by this tragic siege on our flock and on our Church.   We have to find a way to continue practicing our faith while standing firm in our unequivocal condemnation.

We, the nonclergy people of the Church, the “laity,” are the largest part of the church. As lay Catholics, we have certain rights and certain duties. We have a duty to the Church to respect its leaders, the clergy and its traditions. And we also have a duty of “moral conduct”- a duty we share with the clergy.

And, when we consider this duty of “moral conduct,” we must ask what is it Jesus asks of us?   What does Jesus ask that we do to help the survivors of clergy abuse, to protect our children and to demand accountability? 

One thing is for sure: Jesus would not be okay with us sitting idly by.   To quote Matthew 18:6, “But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck and that he were drowned.”

Jesus would demand that every single one of us be vigilant in guarding our children and to do everything we can to never let this tragedy occur again. 

We can stay committed to our beliefs as Catholics while unequivocally condemning the abuse and the coverup which enabled further abuse to perpetuate.  We cannot stay quiet.  We must stand with the survivors against this travesty of justice.  We must acknowledge and validate their pain.   And we must demand justice on their behalf.

To do anything less would be a sin.  

Christ compels us to act.  Christ compels us to protect the children, help survivors with their healing and their quest for justice and defend his church against the evils which have been allowed to penetrate it.    

We can– we must– help one another face these awful truths and act with righteous indignation.   To quote Micah 6:8, “He has told you, O man, what is good; And what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”

It is only through complete transparency of understanding the extent of the abuse, holding those who are responsible accountable and changing the Church’s ways that we can start the healing process and restore trust in our Church leaders. But this trust must be earned. It cannot be blindly given.

We don’t have to leave.  But we do have to cry out for justice.

We can insist upon being a part of the decisions that affect our children, our lives and the future of Our Church.

Your sister in Christ,

Lee