Scandal and Solidarity
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August 25, 2018“Do you also wish to go away?” (Jn 6:67)
I was very struck by Pope Francis’ letter to all members of the Church concerning the recent revelations of sexual abuse by consecrated persons and members of the clergy and the cover-up which allowed this to continue unchecked. Our Holy Father calls for a response of prayer and fasting. He does not ask this of the perpetrators alone, or just those accused of collusion, or even of the Church’s leadership or priests in general. No, he asks all of us – every member of the Church – to fast and to pray in response to the crisis which is upon us.
Properly understood, prayer and fasting is something anyone can do, no matter how old or young or weak or busy, or uneducated or far from the centers of power and influence. When I pray, I calmly allow my mind to consider and my heart to feel the weight of these shared burdens. When I fast, I simply say no to self-indulgence, so as to allow my body to share in the struggle and the hunger for justice.
To pray and fast for the conversion and healing of the body of the Church, which is Christ’s body, and ours, calls for a level of solidarity which is most demanding. If I open my heart those who have suffered violation in body and spirit, then naturally I may recoil in horror from those who have caused such irreparable damage or who by their silence have allowed it to continue. If I am wounded by seeing the Church torn to shreds by a hostile media, and innocent priests cast into disrepute unjustly, it is easy to want to turn down the volume on the seriousness of the violations and perhaps undermine the credibility of the accusations. Or perhaps I just want to quit, like the departing disciples in today’s gospel; to leave the difficult things for someone else and just get on with my life, as if such things did not affect me at all.
But we are one body. If one part is wounded, all suffer. And if one part has sinned, all are ashamed. The wounds are ours, and the sin is ours (not directly, perhaps, but by participation in the one body), so we are doubly afflicted. “Does this offend you?” (Jn 6:61). Why not take upon myself the sorrow and shame and penance for the sin of another? Isn't this the least I can do?
The practice of prayer and fasting to which we are being called is a path to solidarity with one another, which consists in a refusal to dissociate from anyone’s pain, including my own. I refuse to dissociate from the unimaginable suffering of my brother or sister who has been abused by a representative of Christ and his Church. I refuse to dissociate from the terrible shame and disrepute of my brother or sister who has so failed Christ and his Church in failing to care for the little ones. I refuse to dissociate from the Church’s leadership. I refuse to dissociate from priests and religious. I refuse to dissociate from those who are disillusioned and angry.
One body: groaning and in pain.
If I am willing to open a door and let something of the horror of sexual abuse into my life, can I take the further step of opening another door to receive the buffets and spitting which the Church is receiving from the media and public opinion? Could I stand there in persona ecclesiae without turning away my face, as so many in our leadership must do in these days? Can we as Church walk in the footsteps of that Suffering Servant who was pierced for our offenses, who took upon himself the chastisement of us all? The sins Jesus took upon himself are real, the wounds fresh and the burden crushing. None of us can bear this alone, but together, as one, we can “look to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith” (Hb 12:2) and allow him to lead us in the way of solidarity.
One body: crucified, but destined to rise.
“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” (Jn 6:68)
