High school religion class, Seton Hall Prep, circa 1964, the priest calmly asks: "How would you feel...if you learned that your mother was a whore?" Quiet in the class. Not a word is spoken, I am feeling: "That is disgusting!" The silence lingers. Calmly, the priest speaks: "You would feel, I am sure, disgust, shame, anger...more disgust, more shame, more anger...confusion...shock." Again he pauses in silence to allow the reflection to continue. No comment from us students. Finally, slowly and thoughtfully, he adds: "But...at the end of the day...she is your mother. You will always love your mother." Again quiet. Finally, slowly, he moves to his purpose: "The Catholic Church is your mother. The Catholic church is also a whore. She is made up of sinners. All of us are sinners. Priests, religious, bishops and pope are all whores. All unfaithful. Nevertheless, the Church is your mother. You have no other. She is yours to love. Even when she is a whore."
I took this to heart and never forgot it. It was, perhaps, the defining and singular lesson I retain from high school religion. This immunized me against being scandalized by the Church.
This is simple, solid Catholic dogma: The Church is One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic; it is guided and inspired by the Holy Spirit; it is efficacious in the sacraments and infallible in its teaching. But it is peopled by sinners, at every level. So: do not be scandalized by the Church, which is to say the people of the Church, not the Church herself, in all the infidelity and filth. On Calvary Christ was betrayed by one, denied by another, abandoned by 10 of the remaining 11, and accompanied by a solitary disciple and a handful of women. That is the Church: yesterday, today and until Christ returns.
Recently, I was told by two people who are close to me that I am "delusional about the Church." By this they meant I am in denial about the corruption in the clergy: the hypocrisy, the pervasive gay clerical culture even as the Church preaches chastity.
"Delusional" is a strong word: it suggests a pathology and psychosis as in paranoia. No, I responded, I am not delusional. My observation of the Church is not filtered through a lens of extreme anxiety, anger, resentment, or schizophrenia. My observation of the Church is filtered through a lens of affection and loyalty. Genuine love, if it is sober and truthful, does not distort but clarifies jugement.
Is my estimation of the corruption within the Church inaccurate, too low? Possibly. I am by temperament very positive in general. I do have, for a layman, an extraordinary knowledge of the clergy: I have always been involved with the Church and have befriended a broad range of priests including eccentrics, mavericks, homosexuals, gays and even sexual predators. I am not living in a dream world regarding the Church.
Bu, philosophically, I am firmly guided by two related principles.
First, St. Ignatius of Loyola counsels us to always put the best possible interpretation upon the actions of another believer, especially one in authority such as a bishop. This is sound advice. He is not advocating the unreality of Pollyannish optimism, but a prudence that, given uncertainty, prefers a temperate trust in Church relations. This carries with it, obviously, the risk of underestimating malice and evil. It is a risk we soberly accept.
Secondly, it is my observation that the single most common sin is rash judgement. A violation of the eighth commandment, "thou shall not bear false witness," it is more a failure of the intellect than of the will. It is not so much malice intention as a sincere mistake in judgement. The judgement is clouded, often enough, but distrust, fear, resentment, and weakened intelligence. In many cases there may be low culpability: it may be motivated by the intention to protect others. Nevertheless, it is an injustice.
Last night, we viewed again the amazing movie Doubt with breathtaking performances by Meryl Streep, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, and Viola Davis. The ambiguity of the situation is brilliantly maintained throughout. With what we now know of the priestly abuse that was about to explode at the time of the story (1964), it is hard not to root for the fierce, indignant Sister Superior. But, from my philosophical posture on rash judgement, the nun protagonist is guilty of such. The surprising ending is in some way a confession of such on her part.
The movie leaves us hanging in midair, entirely in "doubt" about the situation. But if we have to choose to be the trusting, credulous, innocent Amy Adams nun or the cynical, tough, suspicious Meryl Streep mother superior, I think St. Ignatius of Loyola would counsel the former, as we wait for evidence. It is not delusion; but a preference for trust and a caution in judgement.
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