We must practice both justice and mercy following McCarrick’s death
On April 3, former Cardinal Theodore McCarrick died in Missouri at age 94. A laicized priest whose name is nearly synonymous with the sex abuse scandal in the Catholic Church, he was guilty of the sexual abuse of multiple minors and seminarians throughout his priesthood.
We students are too young to remember the scandal that erupted when the Boston Globe published allegations of clerical sexual abuse in 2002. But I vividly remember summer 2018, when decades of allegations against McCarrick came more prominently to light, and when the Pennsylvania Grand Jury Report was published.
The report, which chronicled 70 years of clerical sexual abuse in six Pennsylvania dioceses, catalyzed the unveiling of many other abuse crises throughout the country, including many allegations in the Diocese of Dallas.
I understand that the statistics of abuse are complex and that for every one abusive priest, there are countless faithful and holy priests.
But many of that summer’s reports were no longer hypothetical allegations or singular situations a person could ignore. It was impossible to look away.
You can have every theological defense for Christ’s presence in the Church and the reality that sin and the need for mercy abound in every heart. But those arguments aren’t very effective when people see the hands that bear Christ also committing the most depraved crimes.
How do we bring men and women to the Father when they have been irreparably wounded by those bearing the title of “Father?”
I recall cowering over on the floor of my Adoration chapel in Indianapolis, overwhelmed by the suffering of the survivors and heartbroken by the scandal scattering the Church.
But in all the pain that the American Church experienced that summer, there was an outpouring of grace. This was not because the Lord dismissed the cry for justice, but because He can bring good out of the most horrendous crime, whether it is sexual abuse, crucifixion or deicide.
Right around the release of the Pennsylvania Grand Jury Report, the Sunday Gospel was the conclusion of John 6, when Jesus asks His disciples, “Do you also want to leave?” As they read the most sickening headlines, the faithful had the opportunity to say with Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”
John 6 is John’s discourse on the Eucharist, and it was through Christ’s vulnerable, intimate presence in the Eucharist that the Church remained, and will always remain, fortified against the most hellish attacks of Satan and his servants.
But although it will never prevail, the City of Man will remain until Christ’s return. Although McCarrick is no longer on this earth, the effects of his sin, and the sin of all who have harmed the Church’s children, remain.
His victims suffer a lifetime of trauma and complex relationship with the Church, whose members so egregiously failed them. Non-Catholics still see McCarrick as a reason to deride the Church.
The faithful continue to be shaken by his crimes. Countless good and holy priests have had their lives irreparably ruined by false allegations that they cannot escape because of the true allegations against McCarrick and others like him.
Like X-ray detectors at airports after 9/11, Church protocol and accountability policies are a constant reminder of the ramifications of sin and the need to ensure that McCarrick’s crimes are never repeated. It’s strange to realize that, for our entire lifetimes, our parochial world has been clouded by the sex abuse scandal.
Heaven knows that the Church is still learning protocol measures that are actually effective and healthful means of preventing abuse. The implementation has been rather clumsy, and I could write a separate article about the insensitivity and harmfulness of certain protocol training methods.
But bearing these grievances patiently is the least I can do. When I read about McCarrick’s death, my first thought was of our need to offer sacrifice.
Many experienced frustration and disappointment last year when McCarrick was found incompetent to stand trial for his decades of alleged abuse. But last week, he stood before the omniscient Judge who says, “Whatever you did to the least of these, you did it to me.”
We must pray for his victims, but we must also pray for McCarrick himself as he stands before the Son of Man. We do not know the state of McCarrick’s soul when he passed away. But we do know that there is no sin the Lord cannot forgive, and there is no repentant thief He will turn away.
I invite you to offer the remainder of your Lenten fasting particularly for the soul of McCarrick, for the wounds the Church has suffered at his hands and for all survivors of clerical sexual abuse. May we always receive their stories with compassion, and may they know that the God who suffered abuse Himself is the same God who proclaims, “Behold, I make all things new.”