Background
Up until now (April 2010) it has not been widely known that I was abused by a paedophile as a boy for over four years from the age of ten (1957) till I was fourteen (1960) and old enough to say, "Enough. No More." Let me say right away that my abuser was not a cleric, but a lay man closely involved in parish activities that parish boys were involved in. My mother had her suspicions and once, when I was sick, asked our parish priest to visit me and question me about the relationship. I denied that there was anything taking place. Why? Because my abuser had made me promise not to tell anyone. I kept that promise. Sick, isn't it?
Other than telling my wife in vague terms I buried the secret deep down, seldom thinking about it, keeping that promise for about forty-five years, right up until 2006. In that year I went to a Catholic Charismatic rally in Toronto where, at one point, one of the leaders said that God was wanting to heal victims of rape. I had NEVER thought of myself as a victim of rape. Rape, for me, was something I had conceived of in rather narrow terms with a heterosexual, never homosexual, component; and rape is always forced, isn't it? My molester never "forced" me into things; I "allowed" him to do what he did. At this invitation, however, it was like something smacked me on the side of the head. There was a sudden, very sudden, realization, "I am a rape victim. That's me. God wants to heal me!"
Without hesitation I stood up and looked for some designated person available to pray with me. The only group available was a family - father, two teenage sons and a teenage daughter if I remember correctly. I gulped and then remembered that I was younger than any of them when this had happened to me. To keep it brief let me just say that the dad did a great job and seemed to be inspired with understanding and compassion. I experienced healing, forgiveness and freedom. Within a week I had shared my story with each of my children and the prayer group that I go to weekly and felt relief and exhilaration. It was no longer this terrible secret that I was too ashamed to tell anyone about.
The Scandal Goes Public
As far as I was concerned I was healed, it was over, and I could get on with my life. But then the clergy scandals started to rock the Catholic Church. Victims were coming forward with allegations of sexual abuse at the hands of priests. I felt sick to the pit of my stomach. Allegations turned into charges and many of the charges stuck. I read about dioceses that had to sell churches in order to pay for court costs and awards for damages. I started to feel increasing anger over the amounts of money being squandered, in my mind, for the defence of priests who seemed to be less than forthright in admitting their guilt, with diocesan defence lawyers making victims publicly recount and "prove" their allegations. That money had come from hard working Catholics who had given to provide for the needs of the Church. This hardly seemed to me like a "need" of the Church and was certainly not promoting the Gospel. My perception was that the ecclesiastical hierarchy had moved into damage control mode and was wanting to minimise the proven guilt and the financial amounts to be awarded in damages thereby compounding one set of injustices with another.
My freshly healed wound started to fester with a new pain which came from the realisation that bishops and their diocesan functionaries seemed to be more concerned with "reputation" and "scandal", and money, than seeing to the restitution due their victims and obtaining their forgiveness and becoming reconciled with them as deeply hurting members of the Body of Christ. Worse, by the protestations offered by some well-meaning "defenders" of the Church, victims and their protagonists were viewed as churlish and opportunistic revenge seekers who were exaggerating the pain and suffering they had endured for so many years in order to maximise their payout. "The Church" was becoming the innocent martyr if some people were to be believed.
Why "come out" now?
At this point I need to pause to explain why this sudden "coming out". Please understand clearly: I, personally, am not looking for sympathy; I do not need or want your sympathy, but I do want your acceptance. A lot of people are expressing their opinions about the clergy abuse scandal that is currently rocking the Church, from the vitriolic vultures that are calling for the head of the pope on a platter, to the frenzied fervour of religious faithful who are portraying the pope as a living martyr who must obviously be innocent of any and all charges before they are even enunciated. The first group includes some victims and their supporters but also seems to include opportunistic journalists who smell the blood of a good story that can give them lots of mileage and the appearance of being knights in shining armour. I am not enamoured of the extremists of the first group, certainly not of those who seem to be baying for blood without any apparent benefit to the victims except some kind of revengeful satisfaction at seeing the pope humiliated. However, I am even less appreciative of the Well-Meaning But Misguided who have set themselves up as Pro Deo or Pro Bono defenders of the Pope and those accused of shielding paedophile priests. I don’t seem to hear this group calling for any acknowledgement of the cause or sufferings of those abused as children at the hands of priests or lay workers in the Church except, occasionally, as an after-thought or single-line item. More often I hear the plaints, largely true it seems, that Catholic clergy per capita are no worse than clerics of any other Christian denomination.
My reason for "coming out" as a victim, then, is to establish my credentials. If these others can pen or voice their opinions about the sexual abusers of children and those who shielded them, then so can I, with more right and justification than many of the most vociferous; and I have a deeply personal perspective to bring to bear that I wish to share.
Trying to defend the Church
God does not need us to defend him; we need him to defend us. In the Garden of Gethsemane when a well-meaning but misguided Peter tried to use the sword Jesus told him that, if he wanted, he could ask the Father who could send more than twelve legions of angels to defend him. There was a chalice to be drunk. By the same token it is presumptuous to think we can defend the Church rather than the other way round. However, by faith, hope and love, and continuous repentance leading to holiness, we can build up one another in love. This is our surest defence and offence. I am convinced that if we try to "defend" the Church in any other way our efforts will backfire. It is futile to try and defend reputation in any other way than by good example and the truth. There is only one way by which Jesus wants his disciples to be recognised: by their love for one another. As for those who would seduce children and lead them to sin Jesus said that it would be better for them to be cast into the sea with a millstone tied around their necks. To these Pope Benedict said in his recent letter to the Church in Ireland, "You betrayed the trust that was placed in you by innocent young people and their parents, and you must answer for it before Almighty God and before properly constituted tribunals... God’s justice summons us to give an account of our actions and to conceal nothing. Openly acknowledge your guilt, submit yourselves to the demands of justice, but do not despair of God’s mercy." (Emphasis mine.)
The Pope's Priorities
I am not aware of Pope Benedict ever asking anyone to defend him or any other bishop. I am aware of the pastoral priorities that he laid out in his pastoral letter to the people of Ireland. To the extent that preachers and others who speak in the name of the Catholic Church ignore these priorities and try instead to deal with this scandal by defending the Pope and the Catholic hierarchy as an end in itself they will muddy the waters instead of offering the pure Living Water. Let's not try to mitigate the Pope's own words to the bishops of Ireland: "It cannot be denied that some of you and your predecessors failed, at times grievously, to apply the long-established norms of canon law to the crime of child abuse. Serious mistakes were made in responding to allegations. I recognize how difficult it was to grasp the extent and complexity of the problem, to obtain reliable information and to make the right decisions in the light of conflicting expert advice. Nevertheless, it must be admitted that grave errors of judgement were made and failures of leadership occurred. All this has seriously undermined your credibility and effectiveness. I appreciate the efforts you have made to remedy past mistakes and to guarantee that they do not happen again. Besides fully implementing the norms of canon law in addressing cases of child abuse, continue to cooperate with the civil authorities in their area of competence." (Emphasis mine.) It is not impossible that the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith may have to own up to just such failure as well.
The victims of abuse and their families
The Pope is way out in front here and most dioceses and parishes are so far behind that they don't even know there is a gap to be closed. Here is what the Pope had to say: "You have suffered grievously and I am truly sorry. I know that nothing can undo the wrong you have endured. Your trust has been betrayed and your dignity has been violated. Many of you found that, when you were courageous enough to speak of what happened to you, no one would listen. Those of you who were abused in residential institutions must have felt that there was no escape from your sufferings. It is understandable that you find it hard to forgive or be reconciled with the Church. In her name, I openly express the shame and remorse that we all feel." Many people criticized the Pope's letter saying it did not go far enough. Maybe, but I was very touched and appreciative of the above acknowledgement of shame and remorse by the Holy Father, just as I was appreciative when our parish priest made some similar acknowledgement in the homily at the Easter Vigil.
The victims that we are aware of are the noisy ones who have come forward - and they have a right to be noisy and to be heard. To them we owe a deep debt of gratitude for exposing this festering boil so that it could be lanced and cleaned. But there are many, many others, too ashamed or hurting or embarrassed or just plain shy. No one will ever know they were victims; they will take their secret to the grave. Some of these victims may or may not be next to you, in front of you or behind you in the pew on any given Sunday. We tend to think of abuse victims being somewhere else, in another country, or in another part of the country, "up North", "down South", out east or west but not in my parish, that's too close for comfort. How would I deal with him/her? What would we say? How can we acknowledge these victims and help them feel accepted and, to some degree, understood?
Here I have a practical suggestion to offer parishes. Please can you add the following or similar petition to your Prayer of the Faithful?
For those who have been sexually abused as children by ministers of the Church, that the Divine Mercy will help them find healing and freedom, and for the shepherds and pastors of the Church that they may have the wisdom, humility and compassion to bring Christ's love to those still suffering from such abuse, we pray to the Lord.
If entire parish communities can pray for this intention on a weekly basis it just might help us all shift from our defensive postures to the openness and acceptance without which we cannot become the “Church purified by penance and renewed in pastoral charity” of which the Pope wrote.
This blog, “Musings on the Catholic Church by a paedophile victim” is copyright © 2010 by Terry McCann. Permission is granted to reproduce excerpts or the whole for non-commercial purposes provided source and copyright is acknowledged and this URL is referenced. Commercial publishers should apply by email to kwamccann@gmail.com.
