In my home diocese of Buffalo, New York, as in many dioceses around the world, we are enduring the faith-trying scandal of clerical sexual abuse. The depth of the wounds to the victims, and to everyone else, is tremendous and incalculable. The fiscal remuneration through the court system to the victims for what they suffer, however, is not incalculable. In fact, we know the exact dollars and cents that this scandal will cost our diocese and each individual parish as the settlement nears completion.
How are we to reconcile this? The earliest substantiated claims of abuse against a priest of the diocese of Buffalo were in the 1950s, years before many of today’s parishioners were even born. How can it be that we are being asked to literally pay for the crimes of others?
How can it be that Christ was asked to pay a debt for sins He didn’t commit? Though He was sinless, He paid the debt we could not pay. In every way, we are called to follow Him. Will we lay down our “rights” as members of the Church and pick up our cross and follow Jesus? Or will we choose to fight against our own Mother Church to protect the finances of our parishes?
A Poor Church Serving the Poor vs. Prudent Cash Reserves
How often have you heard someone ask, “Why doesn’t the Church sell some of their artwork/buildings/etc. to feed the poor from this disaster/that war/this tragedy?” In the Book of Acts we read that the early Church’s money was kept for those in need. There was no prudent reserve, nor building accounts, only trust in Divine Providence. There were no church buildings, only meeting together for the breaking of the bread. Yes, to keep any institution afloat some amount of prudent reserve needs to be maintained to cover operating costs and unforeseen expenses. But who decides what is prudent? At what point does prudent become worldly?
It would seem we in the diocese of Buffalo are about to find out what happens when prudent reserves are wiped out. In all the dioceses where bankruptcy due to scandal is occurring, the Church is going to be much poorer and simpler than it has been in generations.
A poor Church totally dependent upon Divine Providence is a Church that helps others see Jesus.
Don’t look for justice in this tragic situation unless you are willing to be judged yourself. The only justice is what we can give to others. A simple definition of justice is right relationship. Nothing could be more unjust than a spiritual father abusing his spiritual children. We cannot fix that and make it go away. But, in right relationship, we can do what we can do. In our country that means we fulfill the decisions of the legal system. It means we try to restore right relationship with the survivors of abuse by the only means we corporally have to do so: monetarily. It won’t erase the wound or stop the pain, but it will allow the survivors to pursue their own healing however they decide is best without having to worry about the financial burden of doing so.
Why God, why? vs. What would you have me do, Lord?
This latest fiscal-crisis-wave crashing along our diocese’s shores is causing yet more people to leave the Church. If only they would trade in their unanswerable question, “Why God, why?” for “What would you have me do in this situation, Lord?” If only we would trust that God has a plan. If we let go of our why’s and seek God’s will instead, we may find ourselves on a Holy-Spirit-pathway to true renewal.
It’s not going to look like it did when mom was a kid. Church is not going to be an easy place to be, where you check in on Sunday and leave all the ministering to the professionals. We are returning to a time when our faith is going to cost us. Yes, dollars and cents, but also our very selves. A smaller Church needs more involvement from everyone who remains.
From the crisis of today the Church of tomorrow will emerge—a Church that has lost much. She will become small and will have to start afresh more or less from the beginning. She will no longer be able to inhabit many of the edifices she built in prosperity.
As the number of her adherents diminishes, so she will lose many of her social privileges. In contrast to an earlier age, it will be seen much more like a voluntary society, entered only by free decision.
As a small society, it will make much bigger demands on the initiative of her individual members.
– Fr. Joseph Ratzinger, German Radio address, 1969
The odd thing is, amid this chaos, new people are joining the Church. Talk to an OCIA director, and you will hear that the numbers are increasing. Young people, older folks, and everyone in between are coming through the doors. People are reading the news, understanding the gravity of the situation, and answering God’s call anyway. The emptiness of our technological culture, void of meaning and connection, is shining a light on the one place people largely forgot they can find those things. It is the Holy Spirit doing the inviting and calling. We need to respond with a warm welcome and faithful teaching that can only come from people who know and love the Faith themselves.
Providence is flowing differently these days. Dollars are flooding out the door. Souls are trickling in, ever more steadily. Your Church needs you. Jesus needs you. What would you have me do, Lord? Stay. Pray. Do whatever He tells you. Whether that is helping in the sacristy, smiling at a newcomer, teaching a formation class, or studying your faith so as to be able to share it when God sends someone your way. It doesn’t matter what it is, just do whatever He tells you.
Trust and go forward: we were born for this time.
We were not born for the boon days of the 1950s, the golden years we see in black-and-white photographs with gargantuan first communion classes and back-to-back weddings every Saturday. But your funeral ministry may need help, and there’s a Holy Spirit opportunity every time the bereaved come through the doors, maybe for the first time in 30 years (or ever). Be Jesus to them. Let go of the “injustice” of the times and the scandals we are living through. Remember Jesus died for your sins, and there’s nothing “fair” about that. Be mercy. Live your faith. It’s our only Christian choice.
Even more painful than financial loss is the closing of churches. It breaks my heart to see beautiful, old churches closed. Good—that means my heart is broken open a little more. How many “quaint” church ruins are there in Europe and around the world? At some point those were parishes. And each of those parishes closed. There were terrible wars. There were heresies and scandals. People stopped coming. Quaint ruins are all that remains. What we are experiencing is nothing new, this pain, this loss, this Christian life. Let’s put on our big-kid pants and get on with the business of being a Church for Jesus in this crazy, starved-for-love world.
We are treated as deceivers and yet are truthful; as unrecognized and yet acknowledged; as dying and behold we live; as chastised and yet not put to death; as sorrowful yet always rejoicing; as poor yet enriching many; as having nothing and yet possessing all things.
We have spoken frankly to you, Corinthians; our heart is open wide. You are not constrained by us; you are constrained by your own affections. As recompense in kind (I speak as to my children), be open yourselves.
(2 Cor. 6:8-13)
Photo by Pooria Pirhadi on Unsplash
