This story is deeply disturbing. But it’s not the first story I’ve heard of clergy abuse, hypocrisy or impropriety. These stories used to make my blood boil. But after decades of outrage, I only feel sadness and pain.
Mainstream media has been slow with this story. Not surprising. The Catholic Church wields great power in our lives. A foreigner once told me that years of living in the Philippines made him realize that very few in this country dare criticize the Church, openly.
There is fear — fear of being retaliated against by the powers-that-be, fear of being ostracized by friends, family members, neighbors and the larger Catholic community, fear of burning in the fires of hell should one dare to challenge the Catholic Church and its clergy.
My sister often asks me how I can still have the temerity to enter a church. “Aren’t you afraid to be engulfed in flames the moment you step in?” She ribs me. But maybe not. I do not fear because my relationship is not with religion or the clergy. It is with God.
I’ve been critical of the tenets of the Catholic Church. I’ve been scathing about the transgressions of erring clergy. When I point out an inherent defect of religion (dogma) and some diabolical acts of clergy (sexual abuse), why do some Catholics feel disrespected?
I was judged, derided, berated — not by the clergy but by the flock — the flock, blinded by the belief that to question is to sin. If God had not wanted us to question or to think, if He had wanted us to follow blindly, He would not have granted us free will.
And yet, despite my dissenting views, I am still here. I remain a Catholic, at least, nominally. And I have no plans to convert. Because my faith in God is stronger than anyone’s judgement.
It dawned on me, just recently, that I had, in fact, never been disrespected or disparaged by any clergy member I’ve had the fortune to cross paths with. They’ve always been warm and welcoming to me. And not for a second have I ever thought that it was because they agreed with me.
I believe they were simply practicing their faith — showing patience, compassion and magnanimity. And for that, they have my respect. And because of that, I believe I owe the clergy an apology — not for criticizing but perhaps, for generalizing.
A few bad eggs should not ruin the entire basket. The acts of some should not define the entire clergy.
This epiphany came to me after reading on social media, the long list of transgressions allegedly committed by the monsignor. I realized that while the Catholic Church can fail its flock, so can it fail its own clergy — the ones who truly want to teach the faith, guide the flock, serve God and the community.
The good eggs.
I feel their pain — the pain of dismay and disillusionment — when you can find very little reason to hold in high regard those lauded and rewarded by the institution you vowed to respect, honor and serve.
If these are falsehoods, the monsignor should step up to provide clarity and refute the allegations leveled against him without delay. After all, telling the truth requires no rehearsal or preparation.
But if the allegations are true, the monsignor should find the humility to accept the consequences of his treason. And the Catholic Church should find the courage to do what is right to restore the respect of the flock and to regain the trust of the faithful.
Priests are spiritual leaders chosen by God to serve the Church with Christ-like love, humility and compassion. To choose to be otherwise is disloyalty to the faith, betrayal to the flock, treachery to God.