There is a picture of me on the day of my First Holy Communion. The dress is pure white, of course, bell-like over spindly legs.  My hair was smooth then, honey-colored, with a little flip of curl at the bottom. I’m holding a rosary and squinting into the sun. In the picture, I am happy, somewhat somber, completely at home in my identity as a Catholic; this is who we are. Until my father’s death, we were fated for Catholic schools, as my parents were, including my dad at Holy Cross. After his death, my mother may have doubted – God knows, she had reason to - but she was committed to bringing us up Catholic. We took up a pew, the nine of us, at St. Therese’s church in Granby, CT. Every Saturday morning of growing up was spent at CCD.

 I didn’t know then I would fall away in college, i.e., lapse; or that I would walk through the doors of my husband’s Protestant church, seeking a more democratic and intellectual church community - until I got put off by an evangelical movement to save the unconverted whether they wanted it or not. Not for me. Let them be, I think. Let them find their own way to God and holiness. Jesus is there for anyone looking, although you have to look hard to find him, rather than those who have laid claim to him. Leaving the church during my college years, because it was inconvenient, outmoded, uninspiring, I thought I would go back, eventually. Surely the things I objected to, the sexism, the paternalism, the exclusivity, would all evolve into more enlightened views. That doesn’t seem to have happened, and I don’t think that it will during my lifetime.

 The largest obstacle is the sexual abuse of children by the priests – the culture that allowed it, and the leaders who sought to protect the institution of the church over the welfare of children. I cannot see it any other way. The latest report, commissioned by the RC church for the John Jay College of Criminal Justice to investigate the root causes of the crisis, does not satisfy. It blames the sexual and social liberation of the 60’s and 70’s for the behavior of the priests. No where do I remember that criminal behavior or harm to others was part of that liberation. If they were so liberated, why the secrecy?  It’s the secrecy that is evil, that gave rise to the behaviors, and that caused the greatest harm to children: the abuse of trust, the power differential, the shame. Before the 60’s and 70’s, who knows if the abuse wasn’t always there, in secret, but none of the victims ever came forth? The finding that it wasn’t homosexual priests leading to the rise in abuse is interesting, although most of the abuse was directed at boys (because there was more opportunity). How about, maybe openly or accepting gay priests were not prone to abuse? Maybe these were contributing factors, but putting blame on society is not facing the greater truths about the priesthood: celibacy + power + secrecy + protection = abuse.

 Something’s got to change; but something’s fighting against change. And truth. The Church that wants to beatify Pope John Paul II cannot also acknowledge the full extent of the abuse that went on under his watch, not unknown to him. How can a man be sainted who was not the shepherd he needed to be, who lost so many lambs? Recently I saw that two priests who were advocating married priesthood had been “fired”, although not ex-communicated. Perhaps if priests had children of their own, were actual fathers, they would not have perpetrated or tolerated the abuse. And, how are women still not worthy to preach and to confer sacraments, if the main mission of priests is to be conduits of God’s love, not power-brokers themselves? Why are these things not considered growth and enlightenment, like moving to the vernacular mass — as opposed to staying with traditions that have proved ineffective and harmful.

 There was so much I liked about the church, as well as those parts I quarreled with. The peace of the sanctuary, the candles, my grandmother’s reliance on God’s love, the social justice and caring about the poor – all those things. And my white dress, and my rosaries, and my belief that the church was the place where people went to try to be good, as hard as it was. Now my sanctuary is outdoors – in nature. And I look for good in the hearts of other humans, no matter their faith. And I hope that the RC church can change, not just for me, but for the sake of the children that were hurt and the priests that hurt them.

 Church fathers, what would it take to heal, to reconcile? Not so much; not so hard. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa. And then to address the harm done, and prevent reoccurrence: report the abusers to the criminal justice system; stop blaming other causes; wear an “A” for abuse on your cassock; sell your real estate and the treasures of the Vatican to help the poor and victimized; publish the extent of the abuse, name by name, place by place; let the pope not be canonized; let priests be fully human, men and women, both. Then maybe we can all wear white again.