Sins of the fathers

Bishop Edward B. Scharfenberger

In the journey of life, there are moments in which keeping something inside can slowly consume us. Jesus teaches us not to be afraid to cry out, as long as it is sincere, humble, addressed to the Father. A cry is never pointless, if it is born of love. And it is never ignored, if it is delivered to God. It is a way to not give in to cynicism, to continue to believe that another world is possible. — Pope Leo XIV, General Audience, Sept. 10

For three days last week I listened to riveting testimonies of some 60 brave and beautiful survivors/victims of sexual abuse. An emotionally wrenching experience, it was a painful cry of anguish from the heart. Frustrated by the sluggish pace of the bankruptcy process — which I long looked to avoid — survivors, their families, friends and advocates, met before Judge Robert Littlefield. Many diocesan leaders chose to join me along with attorneys and at least one insurance carrier. I wish more were there. Most came, I think, with hopes of breaking the current impasse toward settlement and some form of closure. 

I only hope everyone can hear the stories — or narratives as some prefer to say — of the wounded. The emotions, expressed in rage and tears, still bear the shame of a heavy, horrible dark coat foisted on a child-sized understanding (not just body) of each survivor in their youth by a predatory adult. That cloak of shame now is cast upon the institutional Church, of which the sins of some members robbed them of their innocence through no fault of their own. Trust is shattered. Yet I am grateful for the candor, courage and grace of men and women who would never have shown up if in their hearts some spark of hope did not gleam that their presence might make a difference. In their suffering, they offer us a tremendous gift. As priest (bishop) — for it was mostly the sins of the fathers that violated them — I feel impelled to carry their gift to the altar, ideally the Eucharist, for them, until they can do so for themselves.

This sacrificial, priestly desire — yes, duty — of mine may not be easily received by all, even unwanted by anyone who was so brutally molested or violated by a man with a Roman collar. Such dreadful acts, we heard, even happened in front of a crucifix, the victim forced by the evildoer to kneel and confess “our” sin! How does anyone recover from that trauma without some kind of divine intervention? “Shame on you!” I heard this many times, a cry for justice and relief from that heavy, horrible cloak the thorn-wounded hearts of survivors yearn (and deserve) to be free from. I know — and they know — that the anger and rage alone cannot create healing, nor any insulting settlement or (to be honest) payoff to “measure” the cost of injuries driving deeper down than any bodily wound.

For any salutary transaction to bring a measure of peace, it must be more than words of apology or confessions of institutional complicity in the shuffling and cover-ups, thankfully now exposed, that stained the Body of Christ, which the Church claims itself to be. Like a surgeon digging deeply into an infected wound, and with the cooperation of survivors, mediators and legal professionals, all the rotted flesh and detritus must be scraped out before a stitch or bandage is applied. The real transaction, however, will not end in the courts, when the lawyers and triggered plaintiffs walk out the door. These offerings must be brought as a priestly sacrifice to the altar of God.

What I am saying is, I as bishop and priests who will join me, must sacrifice and atone for the sins of our brothers. It weighs heavily on the hearts of many survivors that the parish churches they so loved before their innocence was robbed, must now pay dearly to help heal their wounds, however inadequate any purely material recompense may be. The sacrifice, of course, also includes constant prayer and care, an awareness of and vigilance over the signs and roots of the abuse of power and the sexual deviation that defined these heinous crimes, mostly against children and young people. 

I mention “abuse of power” first because in every instance the abuser uses his or her authority as a representative of God — or the Church — to justify whatever he or she claims a right or privilege to do, the horrible sins of sexual and other forms of physical and mental abuse. Body, mind and soul cannot so easily be separated, except in the most theoretical sense. The entire neurological system is not confined to the brain or, to put it another way, the “brain” extends throughout the body. Their very cells, survivors say, seem to remember the severe trauma so often triggered in sounds, sights and dreams that deprive them of peace, security and sleep.

Our responsibility and accountability, especially among clergy, need not focus on admission of personal guilt or the absorption of shame. Little need to wallow in self-pity or histrionic paranoia. Survivors feel this in themselves anyway, no matter how often they are told, “it’s not your fault.” As leaders in our Catholic Church, however, we need to be keenly aware of the many among us — clergy and laity! — who themselves suffer in silence often from fear of coming forward to tell of their own experiences of abuse, either personally or of others. No one should be afraid of reporting, or that any harm will come to them if they do so. Ever. Whatever we can do to promote awareness of instances or conditions in which abuse may occur or have happened, and the availability of help and support, must be in the forefront of our mission to protect innocent human lives. 

Bear in mind that most abuse begins not with clergy — or others in religious or professional institutions — but much closer to home, among relatives, friends and neighbors. Though background checks are normative today in our screening processes for clergy, employees and volunteers, the sins and temptations of fallen human nature are ever present. Increased awareness and vigilance by all members of our domestic, faith and social communities will shine light on the hidden corners where perpetrators of the evils of abuse may lurk. As always, it cannot be said enough, if you see something, say something.