NO MORE SIN, MY BROTHERS!!

No more sin, my brothers!  I write this and the words on the screen just lack the intensity of my emotion.  NO MORE SIN, MY BROTHERS!! I scream this out to you with the fierceness that Christ, Himself, yelled to the moneylenders in the temple.  STOP this sinfulness of lust and sex, lies and deception that has seeped into the house of our God.  This house belongs to us women, your sisters, too, and His altar is our altar and you, as the powerful male leadership, have allowed our brothers to defile our families of faith and cause trauma to those beautiful children held up at their baptisms for all of us to claim as ours and those vulnerable adults whose trust led them into the backs of sanctuaries and broom closets.  And, as if this was not enough, we are deluged with stories of coverups, payments, threats, legal stalling, etc. that continue to emerge even after the initial stories of abuses have faded; stories that carry with them the names of priests, bishops, archbishops, and all the way to the Vatican.  This has to stop!  We are not above the judgment of God that He has brought upon other cities before us.  Yes, the Holy Spirit was given to us to guide us and be with us throughout the ages but never forget that all that is needed for this Church of His to continue is to have two or three gathered in His name and as Noah and Moses and Abraham and Mary all lived, a holy "yes" can carry its faith, its hope, and its love forward. 

Last night I watched a Frontline documentary on the abuses of children and adults within the Catholic Church.  I did not want to watch this.  I had just happened upon this show while flipping through channels and within a few minutes of listening my emotions were jumping between feeling like throwing up, sadness, embarrassment, shame, etc.  This is not the first time that I have listened to stories of rape and violence, for I worked with the homeless and poor for ten years, but it is the first time that I have listened to stories like the one where a young 8-year-old girl was raped on the floor of the church by the parish priest and had to wash the blood off of her legs with water from the Baptismal font.  He has since died but she is left one among hundreds whose story has not found peace and healing within the Church; one among hundreds who, if fortunate, have found some priests and other pastoral people willing to meet with her regularly to lift her up and affirm her despite the ridiculing of other leadership.   

The place of this attack was an intimate place for me for being Catholic all of the churches are our home, blessed and carried within them the Body of Christ in the Tabernacle that was probably only feet away from this mortally sinful attack.  Her tears would have pooled on the marble where many of us walk to recieve Communion. I couldn't help but look at her and say out loud as one Catholic woman to another "I am so very sorry".  When I watched as much as I could and then went to bed, the prayer that was on my lips was "Father, do You really want us to forgive these priests and the hierarchical system of clericalism that provides a breeding ground for these atrocities?"

This morning I remain saddened at what is happening within the Church that I have loved all my life but my thoughts remain with this woman and how I, as woman and mother,  would have wanted to take her in my arms and try to soothe her pain away while scanning the horizon for the one who hurt her as a lioness watches out for her cubs.  She spoke of how the priest told her after his vicious attack that "If she told anyone, no one would believe her and her parents would both burn in hell".  She talked about how she had been raised in her faith formation to believe that the priestly vocation was the closest one could get to God in this human lifetime.  I recognized those words from my youth and I am glad that I witnessed her saying them for I have struggled in my adult life with wondering about God's calling to me, a lay woman, and where in the world I fit among the "greater" callings.  I know now that there is no greater calling than one who hears and follows with a holy "yes" and a pure heart.  Her story, horrible as it is, has brought wisdom to me in the awareness that God has truly called me to be present within this Bride of His, the Catholic Church, to those who suffer and this is no less than the hands of those who stand at the altar. 

In the course of my professional work sitting next to thousands whose life experiences have placed them on the periphery of the "normal" I came to understand that none of this takes place in a vacuum.  When children are abused, grandparents, aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews are aware.  When wives are beaten, friends and family know.  When poverty strikes and a family begins to suffer, there are signs.  We are communal and within this we share responsibility.  Why?  Because God gave us to each other as co-stewards of His creations.  As co-steward this morning, I say no more!  Your money changing table is being overturned.  May all of us women who have stood on the sidelines for so long feel compeled to put on our "big girl" panties, step over that line in the sand and bring cleanliness back to this House of the Lord.  We are His daughters and our daughters and sons are being harmed.  We need to put a stop to this in the Name of our Lord, Jesus Christ.  If it means the end of clericalism, then let it die a quick death.  If it means that women need to enter into all facets of leadership within the Catholic Church, then may the will of God be done.  If it means that we must fight with a fierceness of faith like that of the lioness, then may St. Joan of Arc be at our side.  But may God have mercy on our souls if we go one more day with this occurring right under our noses and we do nothing to assist the children and adults in our care. AMEN!