Crisis of Faith

One would have to be living under a rock the last couple of weeks (actually, the last decade or two) to not know that there's a serious crisis going on within the Catholic church. Particularly over the last couple of weeks, I have been struggling to comprehend what I feel about the Catholic church. While sexual abuse by priests is (beyond unfortunately) nothing new, the more and more I hear about these crimes, the more I question the men charged with guiding the Church.

I am a practicing (for the most part) Catholic, although I've always disagreed with some of the tenets of the Church's teachings. I have always been able to look at issues like homosexuality, abortion, contraception, and so many other hot-button issues as topics that I could disagree with the Church about, but still be able to retain my belief and faith in the core values of what the Church teaches us.

Particularly in the weeks leading up to Easter, I had a really difficult time thinking about the significance of the holiday. I couldn't go to church because I'm starting to question the sincerity - the holiness - of the priests who lead the Mass. How can I possibly rely on the leaders of the Church to set the example for me to follow if there's no guarantee that they're leading a Christ-like life?

While I completely understand and believe that there are far, far more good priests than there are pedophile priests, but the growing evidence that for decades, these criminals have been sheltered from prosecution, allowed to continue ministering to their parishes, and have NOT been defrocked sickens me. I wonder what roles the priests that I have respected and admired in the past have played - if any - in this debacle. Father L., my childhood parish priest, the one who baptized me? What about my priest in college, Father R., who served as a grandfatherly figure to so many of his college parishioners. And Cardinal B., who I considered a giant among men. And finally, JPII. A pope who I had the good fortune to bless me not once, but twice. The first of those two times, he actually placed his hand on my head to bless me as my mother held her baby up to him.

But did he play an active role in protecting these priests? What did he know? How could these holy men, the leaders of my faith, decide that protecting these horrible priests was more important than protecting children in the church? How could COVERING THIS UP help the church and its parishioners more than making an example of these criminals and showing that the church that professes to protect the vulnerable actually abides by that philosophy?

One of the other, really terrible side-effects of this is that I wonder if the priesthood was really the right choice for my college friend who is now Father G. While I know that he entered the priesthood with the purest of hearts, the purest of intentions, and a strong desire to both learn more and teach others about his faith, I worry that a dark cloud hangs over him, as one hangs over all of the other GOOD priests in the world. I feel as though I'm losing faith in my religious leaders. And that's not the way that I want to feel. Faith is supposed to give you peace, make you stronger, give you something that you know you can rely on. And I can't do that anymore.

For me, this isn't a debate about whether priests should be allowed to marry, or whether women should be allowed to be priests. That really has nothing to do with it. Rather, it's all about how the Church as an institution has made a massive failure out of its attempts to hold pedophile priests accountable for  their actions, both spiritually AND legally. The Church has lost the trust of its followers all over the world, and this is a trust that they'll never be able to get back. And I therefore find myself in the terrible position of trying to figure out what this means for me. I've been asking myself that question for quite some time now, and I'm still nowhere near an answer or solution. Maybe what I do is just bypass the 'intermediaries' and just seek guidance and peace from the man upstairs myself.