Listen to the Homily here
I may have mentioned, once or twice,
my goddaughter. She is a little more than three and a half. A few weeks ago,
when the calendars of a busy three-and-a-half-year-old child and a busy parish
priest aligned, I met Madeline and her family at one of the newly constructed
eateries near Charlotte. The family arrived first; they were seated and
beginning to eat when I walked through the door of the restaurant. My
goddaughter immediately got up from her chair, ran toward me cheerfully saying
the closest and cutest approximation of Father Benjamin that she can muster,
and jumped into my open arms. The joy in her eyes and the smile on her face
were sharp contrasts to the angry and concerned eyes and disapproving looks of
the other people seated in the restaurant. I saw their faces and I knew why
they looked the way that they did: they were horrified and concerned to see a
priest holding a child. I imagine that it will be that way for the rest of my
life.
If there was any trust left after the
scandals revealed in 2002, and if any trust had been rebuilt in the sixteen
years since then, it is now gone. I am utterly horrified. I am ashamed. I am
broken hearted. I am angry. I am disappointed. I am furious that consecrated
men abused children and young people, that they abused their authority and the
trust of their sacred office. I am horrified that predators were promoted
rather than being punished. It’s tough to preach, and to pray.
But let us be clear: I and other
faithful priests are not the victims here. We are, at best, collateral damage.
The victims are the young people and children that were violated by those who
should have protected them. The victims are those who were rejected and
neglected by Church and legal systems. They are the ones who need our prayers
and support. They are the ones who deserve our compassion, our consolation, and
our care. Our eyes can never look away from those who are suffering, because to
do so would be to take our eyes off of the Suffering Savior.
This is not a time of persecution: it
is a season of purification. We as a Church must face the examination of
conscience and the examination of conduct. This will not be pretty. The depths
of depravity and dishonesty must be brought to the light. It will be painful.
It will be disappointing and disheartening. But we pray that it will also be
purifying and healing.
Knowledge and admission of sin and a
desire to reform are the first steps on the path to holiness . . . and holiness
is our only option. There is no path forward that does not involve a deeper
commitment and a deeper relationship with Jesus Christ. We need an
investigation and a review board and screenings and policies. Those must be
part of the process, and they will be. But there is no abiding change, no
change of heart or change of practice or change of behavior without a change of
direction from the ways of the world to the way of the Lord Jesus. Holiness is
our only answer. Holiness is our only path. Holiness is the only credible
witness that can testify before the victims of abuse and the world. We have no
choice. We must seek to be holy.
There is a great consolation in our
long history. In the times of greatest disobedience and debauchery, in the days
when faithfulness is cast aside, and sin is set up as the ideal, it is in those
times when God raises up his greatest saints. I am consoled that in the face of
these scandals the purifying fire of God’s justice will make way for the
glorifying power of God’s holiness. God will raise up his saints. God will
raise up his witnesses. The ever-faithful God remains ever faithful and ever
merciful. That is our consolation and our challenge.
You see, it is from this room and from
this community that God will raise up his saints. We will support each other on
the way of holiness. As a priest, I cannot become holy without you. I am not a
hermit, nor a monk. My path to holiness is not a cave in the desert nor a cell
in a monastery; it is here, with you and for you. We walk the road to the
Kingdom together. We struggle to be holy together. And together, with the trust
and joy and expectation of a child of God, we run to the open arms of Jesus.
Preached at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church, Monroe, NC
