Faltering Faith

graphics by Lilah Powlas

I raise my index and middle fingers to my forehead. In the name of the Father, and of the … no. I stop myself.

I feel guilt. Not just any guilt, Catholic guilt — the feeling exclusive to the Catholic faith where even the act of stepping on someone’s shoe is tinged with guilt.

The strong morals I was brought up in taught me this. But now I feel guilty, and not for my innate feeling of guilt. I feel guilty to be a Catholic.  

I used to take pride in the church and the cardinal virtues — prudence, temperance, fortitude, justice. Now I look at church and see their new virtues — negligence, carelessness, cowardliness, corruption — after being exposed to the sick web of cover ups and payoffs showcased in the movie “Spotlight.”

The 2015 biopic about the Boston Globe journalists uncovering the crimes of the church, publishing over 600 stories about it in 2002 alone, unsettled my my faith — the thing that had been my unquestioned rock all my life — and left me trying to place blame. On the institution. On God. On the people. On myself.

I could never make the sign of the cross again. There was no longer a guiltless prayer for me.

Recently, my feelings of blame have resurfaced.

“Priests were raping little boys and girls, and the men of God who were responsible for them not only did nothing; they hid it all. For decades.”

This statement from the grand jury’s 1,356-page report summarizes the sex abuse in the church in Pennsylvania that came out Aug. 8, 2018.

1,000 identifiable victims. 301 priests. 70 years.

The word “rape” isn’t strong enough to show the damage.

Rape doesn’t disclose a 9-year-old boy having his mouth purified with holy water after being forced to perform oral sex on a priest. Or a boy being forced to strip and pose naked like Christ on a cross and photographed. Or a victim being tied up and whipped by a priest with leather straps.

This is just the beginning.

As of Sept. 7, 2018, attorney generals and state prosecutors in Florida, Illinois, Missouri, Nebraska, New Jersey, New Mexico and New York have opened investigations into reviewing dioceses (a district of churches led by a bishop) for cases of sexual misconduct.

Even if any cases more horrific than those found in Pennsylvania are uncovered, it won’t change the church for the better. Catholicism is more than a religion — it’s a culture. Although the leaders used to be known for promoting social change — like Óscar Romeo and advocating for the poor — like Mother Teresa,  the leaders have tainted the institution by protecting the name of church before the the people who kneel before it.

This happened in Pennsylvania, but two of the 301 priests were in Kansas City dioceses for years. It can happen here. It can happen in any community.

The former Bishop of my old diocese covered up for a priest who had child pornography on his computers in 2012.

I shouldn’t have accepted “retirement” as the answer to why we stopped praying for him in church.

My parents wedding photos have been destroyed because their officiant was a child molester.

I still can’t believe that one.

How can I sit in a pew and follow the Catholic policy of “pay, pray and obey” when I have no reason to trust the priest who I am supposed to confess my sins to?

I can pray directly to God, but what do I say?

Dear God, I’m angry at you.

Dear God, I feel lied to.

Dear God, what else don’t I know?

I’ve entered a new place of Catholic culture — a culture of confliction. A culture of giving a defensive answer when asked what religion I am. A culture of feeling shame to even be labeled “Catholic.” A culture where I constantly face the question: how can I still be Catholic?  

The answer for other conflicted Catholics appears to be a rally for reform. But reform is no longer an option for me.

I don’t trust the church to reform itself — they had their chance. How could they continue to let a priest serve in the church who collected “trophies” like urine, pubic hair and menstrual blood? Or allow for a gang of priests to mark boys they favored with golden crosses to show they are easy victims?

If I can’t see the change happening, I can’t continue to follow the church.

I can’t change what’s happened.

It’s time I stop feeling guilty for the actions of the church.