Twenty-Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time (B)
We, the Catholics of the United States, continue to feel the aftershocks of the clergy sexual abuse crisis. We are not only trying to digest the latest revelations – the Pennsylvania grand jury report; the accusations against Cardinal McCarrick – but are also dealing with the highly unusual sight of Church leaders accusing other Church leaders (even the Holy Father) of some degree of complicity in this crisis. This latter piece did not happen even in 2002. Moreover, we have no way of knowing what new revelation, what new accusation, may be just around the corner. Most of the abuse may have taken place years ago, but this generation, it seems, is now tasked with shouldering the burden of it all.
As I have mentioned in previous posts, we are dealing with a serious violation of trust on two levels: first, the level of the priest/parishioner relationship; second, the level of the institutional Church. We feel angry, bewildered, disgusted, discouraged – and yes, scandalized. We question our leaders and ourselves. How could this have happened? Why was it not stopped much sooner? The joy of being a Catholic has been tarnished, to put it mildly.
Now, we find a new challenge. Where do we go from here? How do we get there? How can we find a way forward?
Many of us find that our commitment to the Church is being tested. We feel tempted to pull back, or even to leave the Church altogether. It is easy to understand how any one of us can feel this way. These crimes are bewildering and disgusting. The pain they cause is enormous. The idea that priests – of all people – could do such things, and that bishops – of all people – would try to cover these things up, seems beyond comprehension. To me, it feels like a bad dream, or some drug-induced trip, or some weird Twilight Zone episode. But it’s real. Too real.
But does leaving the Church help? Is it the answer? Even if we don’t choose that route, what route do we choose? How do we cope? What might be an answer – if not THE answer?
Here, in this post, I will offer some points to consider that I hope will prove helpful. Then, I will focus on the figure of Peter in our Gospel reading. Peter, who can get things very right and then, just as quickly, get them very wrong. Peter, who remains, nevertheless (I will argue) the model for the type of Church leader (and Church member) we most need today.
Let us begin here: our faith does not depend on the moral quality of our Church leaders. My saying this does not mean that their moral quality is unimportant. Far from it! Every Catholic is called to holiness, and this is all the more true of our leaders. “To whom much has been given, much will be required”, the Lord tells us. Moreover, Jesus calls us “the salt of the earth”, “the light of the world”. Jesus insists that his disciples are not to lead like worldly rulers, but are to serve and not be served. St. Paul can say, in all sincerity and humility, “Imitate me as I imitate Christ”. Holiness of life, then, is essential for all of us, and especially for our shepherds in faith. Nevertheless, our faith does not depend on the moral excellence of our shepherds. That is because the main reason we are Catholic is not because of our shepherds, or anyone else we can see.
What do I mean? Surely, each one of us can point to family members, priests, nuns, and many others who were instrumental in our becoming Catholic and in our growing in the faith. We have all been greatly blessed with people who have encouraged us, taught us, challenged us, and corrected us. We have even learned a great deal from people whom we did not like at first, but who proved in the long run to be gifts for us. All of these had a role in the beginnings and the growth of our faith, to be sure. We can thank God for each and every one of them. But their role was instrumental. They were all means by which the Lord brought us to him and into his people.
It is clear from the Scriptures that it is the Lord who builds the Church. “It was not you who chose me”, Jesus says, “but I who chose you”. In the Acts of the Apostles, the Holy Spirit is in charge, steering Philip toward the Ethiopian and Peter toward Cornelius. The Spirit often leads the apostles (and others) in directions they would not have chosen on their own. The Church is the Lord’s, and it is the Lord who builds it.
If this is so, then we belong to Church in response to the Lord’s own call to each one of us, even though that call may have come through a host of people over the years. Our “Yes” to the Lord includes a “Yes” to the Church, his very Body. How can one leave the Body without leaving the Lord? As Peter once said, “To whom shall we go? YOU have the words of eternal life”.
Leaving the Church would not separate us from sexual abusers. We would have to leave the human race to do that. The problem of child sexual abuse is even greater than the clergy sexual abuse crisis seems to be. One in ten children will be sexually abused before age 18. With girls, the number is one in six. The culprit is, most often, a relative. If not, then someone else the child knows and trusts. Our society has never even come close to coming to grips with this broader problem.
No, leaving the Church distances us from Christ. We deprive ourselves of the Eucharist and other sacraments. We deprive ourselves of the grace we experience as a result of worship during Mass and other liturgies. We deprive other Catholics of our presence and support. Who will have their backs, if we leave? Who will encourage them? Moreover, do we not find that, in the very act of supporting someone else’s faith, our own faith is immensely blessed? We need to know that we all have each other’s back during this time. No matter what. We need to know that we can count on one another’s faith, presence, commitment. We are here because Christ has called us here. We remain because Christ remains with his people. We suffer at times, but know that Christ also suffered due to the sins of others. Including our own. Like faithful soldiers, we remain at our posts. We have suffered a serious setback, but the war is far from over. The Lord himself is our general. We love him. We believe in him. We hope in him. So we remain in him, and in his Church.
Another point. The clergy sexual abuse crisis serves as an “industrial strength” reminder of the tension we all feel between our call to holiness and our status as sinners. I may not be guilty of this particular sin, but I remain a sinner who is yet called to be holy. Not only holy: to be perfect, as our heavenly Father is perfect. We expect our leaders to model this for us. Yet, our leaders remain sinners, even as they are also called to holiness. I can examine my heart on any given day, and find times when I got it right and times when I failed in some way. There is nothing I want more than to be with the Lord. Still, I sin at times.
How do we deal with this tension? I would submit that this tension is a very important factor in how we feel about this crisis. Finding a way forward here can, then, give us a space to begin to build faith again.
One typical response to this tension is to deny the sin, or at least to hide it from view. We see this in how many bishops dealt with the sexual abuse crisis in years past. They were afraid that people would be scandalized if word got out. They were afraid, perhaps, of tarnishing the reputation of the Church in general, their own diocese, or (let’s be blunt) themselves. “This can’t happen in MY diocese!” Then, there is also the spirit of clericalism -the sense that the clergy, because they are clergy, are automatically better than others and therefore deserve perks that others do not have. To acknowledge that a priest could be capable of such a sin would certainly torpedo any claims of superiority that come from clericalism. Therefore, many bishops were more concerned with “saving face” than with protecting children.
Before we get too hard on the bishops, do we not all do this, to some extent? Who wants to get caught when we do something wrong? How often do we save face? We deny the wrong, or find someone or something else to blame. We seek a scapegoat.
This is the greatest danger of “saving face”. If we cannot admit our own sinfulness, we must find a guilty party elsewhere. Many Germans, after World War I, could not understand how their superior race could have lost. To ‘save face’, they needed a scapegoat. Enter the Jews. Look at many people in politics. In most any controversy, most politicians are all about saving face and trying to pin the blame on someone else.
The desire to “save face” is the primary reason why the clergy sexual abuse crisis became as serious as it is and lasted as long as it has. When we see Church leaders begin to blame one another, or to search for someone else to blame (gay priests in general, for example), the dynamism of “saving face” remains in place. It is a false god that seeks human sacrifice, as every false god does. Too many abused children were offered in sacrifice. Too many scapegoats were sacrificed in its “honor”. As long as we, and our leaders, keep “saving face”as a priority, then it doesn’t matter what policies we put in place. The policies are only as good as the people who administer them. As long as “saving face” remains a priority, then we have learned nothing from this crisis. In fact, we are guaranteed another such crisis. And another. And another. How do we break this cycle of “saving face”?
Enter Simon Peter. An unlikely hero, if ever there was one. Did you ever wonder why Jesus chose Peter as one of the Twelve? Moreover, why did Jesus give Peter a status that made Peter pre-eminent among the Twelve? Jesus doesn’t tell us, of course, in so many words. But his life in the Gospels give us a strong clue or two.
The tension between the call to holiness and remaining a sinner is just as evident in Simon Peter as it is in any of us. At the start, he leaves everything to follow Jesus. He continues to follow Jesus through thick and thin, even when the going gets rough. In fact, Peter follows Jesus all the way to Gethsemane, and even a little beyond. How many of us, if we were there then, would have gone that far? Peter has a deep sense of commitment to the Lord. It is he who speaks for the others when, in our Gospel reading, he says that Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah.
But Peter also gets it wrong. When Jesus begins to speak of a cross, Peter dares to rebuke Jesus. He stumbles in a number of other ways in the Gospels. Finally, after declaring that he would never leave Jesus even if it meant death, he denies knowing Jesus three times.
What does Peter do? Does he save face? Does he blame someone else – the servant girl, the guards, the other disciples, or his cruel fate? Does he find a scapegoat? No. We are told that he goes off and weeps bitterly. He faces the full impact of his sin. He does not deny that. He does not blame someone else for it. He faces it in its bitter truth. It is because of this willingness to face this truth that he can then be open to forgiveness and healing by the Lord.
This is why Peter can become a patron saint for us – now, here – in a special way. He shows us how not to give in to the temptation to “save face” and find scapegoats. He shows us how to face our sins with honesty and considerable courage. He shows us how the Lord can take someone who is broken, and make that “break” the means of strengthening others. As Jesus told Peter at the Last Supper, “when you have recovered, you must strengthen your brothers and sisters”.
Peter teaches us that holiness is seen not only when we do good. It is seen not only when we give ourselves unreservedly to the Lord. Holiness is also seen in how we respond to our sins. The holy person still sins. The difference is, the holy person does not blame someone else. Nor does the holy person become mired in guilt. No, the holy person sees the sin for what it is, and does not deny it. The holy person needs no scapegoats as there is no “face” to be “saved”. The holy person then seeks forgiveness. From the experience of sin and forgiveness, the holy person learns compassion in a more profound way. Such a person knows how to listen to the struggles of others and offer them encouragement and healing. This is the kind of leader we need now. No more face-saving. No more scapegoating. No more clericalism. No, a humble acknowledgment of one’s own sins and a complete trust in the mercy of Christ. It is such humble, wounded healers who will provide us with the hope and leadership we so desperately need.
May the Lord send us many such leaders. May our current leaders look to Peter for an example of how to acknowledge sin, how to be forgiven, and how to then become means of the Lord’s healing and encouragement for a people who need it so much. This may well be the “rock” on which a renewed Church will be built by the Lord.