Thursday, February 14, 2019

Here's to Dorothy, Oscar, and Rebuilding

I used to think that logic was all I would need to remain faithful. When I became a wife and later a parent, I did not worry about the spiritual dry spell that developed because I knew there was not another spiritual home for me. These past few years, I have seen the wounds of our Church history rip open and I have felt it deeply. I mourn for the victims of clerical abuse. I mourn for those harmed by our institution in other ways. There is a comfort within the Mass and a yearning for the Eucharist that I cannot be without, and yet I desperately wanted to leave.

It is my nature to want to fix problems. It is not easy for me to sit without resolution. Learning how to build faith in uncertainty and how to work through the uncomfortable feels like an overwhelming prospect for an impatient perfectionist such as myself. It makes coming to terms with the imperfection of our human church a struggle that feels insurmountable.

I've recently discovered that my faith in God is not the same thing as my faith in our earthly church. This might seem like a no-brainer to some, but for this cradle Catholic, it took some time. Humans let themselves, each other, and their God down. We fail. We fall. We get back up and swear we will never fail or fall again, but then we do.

We are Peter.

My faith in our human ability to live as Christ asks us to live is (permanently?) shaken, but I am trying. It's been suggested that I just look through all the pain and grief towards the resurrection. All I can see is a fog of anger, and not all of it is righteous. I see doubt, darkness, ruin.

I keep trying.

I see Dorothy Day, surrounded by those that people find difficult to love, those that struggle to love, or both. I imagine her words "God understands us when we try to love." I see her commitment to loving others extend to her death.



I try again.

I see Oscar Romero (once I blink away Raul Julia) as I begin to get to know more about his faith, love and life. I spend time wrapping my hardened heart and mind around his words "The church is the salt of the earth. It is to be expected that where there are wounds this salt will burn." I see that his commitment to Christ extended to his sudden death.



I try again.

I read their words, see their flaws, and I feel relief.

I am relieved that I recognize the hardships of faith in their lives and the familiarity of struggle.

I am relieved that they were not perfect.

I am relieved to disagree at times, but there is still so much room to admire their work, words, and example.

Surrounding myself with saints that also recognized the imperfection on earth is healing.

I share this with all of you because it was important for me to know that other Catholics felt similarly. If you too have been shaken and have lost your footing, I see you. I am here with you, and I am trying along side you to rebuild.



Tuesday, January 15, 2019

"(The Abuser) Was Always Nice to Me!"







My husband loves the TV show Lost. He discovered it in the early days of Netflix when binge watching was new. I hated it. I couldn’t handle not being able to predict what was happening. I even watched the episodes without him so when we watched it together I could pretend I saw it coming.


I always want to see it coming. I wanted to have seen it coming in The Sixth Sense. I want to rely on my experience and knowledge to tell me why my kid suddenly won’t sleep. I want the lady yelling that my grocery cart is rolling away into the road to know I’m a mother of six and I’ve got it. I want to see red flags and warning signs of abuse and call that shit out. If I know, then I am in control.

I’m not alone in this.


When allegations of abuse come to the surface, an abuser confessed or is convicted, people close to the abuser say “(Blah blah blah) pillar of the community! Goes to church on Sundays! Paid my rent when I needed it! Selfless! *Always was nice to me!*"


What we fail to remember is that the world of an abuser is carefully orchestrated. There’s the grooming of victims, but that doesn’t matter if the environment isn’t controlled. Your vic sees you palling around with every person they’d go to for help and they absolutely believe the “you tell anyone and they won’t believe you” routine. Abusers rely on their good deeds to help them remain unpunished. There might be different ways of maintaining the illusion, but just because someone was nice to you, makes great music, or has a way with words on Sundays, it doesn’t mean abuse allegations aren’t credible.


The victims of abuse are not the only victims. We continue to cover for abusers when we look for ways to blame victims for their own assault or sexual abuse or manipulation. It is almost as though we believe that, if we can shift the blame to those that were wrecked by abuse, then we can walk away unscathed. But we don't.