A reader asks Matt what he, as a Roman Catholic of Irish heritage, thinks about the recent child molestation revelations in Ireland.
Matt responds:
I believe it is a travesty for people of power to cover up and pretend that something didn’t happen.
I think we have many examples of that in our culture and history. The Romans had a simple solution: They crucified all of their enemies.
On the other hand, when Caesar was driven to the Senate in his chariot, there was always a slave behind him whispering in his ear, “Remember, Caesar: This, too will end.” The Romans remembered their mortality, but they also knew their power.
In my lifetime, we have the dastardly acts committed by the Nazis, so we had the trials in Nuremberg afterwards, where people were put in jail and put to death to be punished for what they did. There was no great forgiveness of what they had done. The acts were so horrible that the human cry of “Vengeance is mine!” ruled the day. Those responsible were held responsible.
Another very different example, whcih is unique and wonderful, came in South Africa, where there was a coming-together of white and black people after apartheid, where both parties confessed the things they did to one other, asking for and granting forgiveness and coming to closure by a manifestation that was very different from the norm in our species.
What troubles me with the priests abusing children, is the abuse of power. We will not tolerate this in our society, because we are all unique, we are all vulnerable. If someone of power can use that power to degrade us, either financially, mentally, or sexually, and then, on the next level, the people who were responsible for policing and censuring the powerful also turn a blind eye—when that is allowed to happen, the whole society suffers, and we lose credibility not only as a species, but also as a community.
We start asking the question: Who can we trust? Once you lose the trust, you’ve lost the battle.
The old question, “What would Christ do?” I think was pretty much answered when he went into the temple. He didn’t argue with the money changers; he didn’t send them to another temple; he didn’t ask for a cut of the profits. He kicked them out; he yelled at them; he was mad. And as the story goes, they didn’t like it.
Christ was a risk-taker, a visionary, a man of peace, but he would not tolerate what he thought was taking advantage of people.
I think the reason for the universal outcry of the Catholic people is the manifestation of not only what happened, but the question of why it continues to happen. Once you lose the moral authority, it is very difficult to bring back the fold to where it was. That will be the test of anyone in leadership in the Roman Catholic Church.
Matt