In less than a month, we saw Pope Francis alter a dizzying array of
traditional papal accessories: his home, his shoes, what he sits on,
what he wears, how he travels and more.
In addition, he has generated
hope with gestures that are possible harbingers of change. His Holy
Thursday visit to a prison included unprecedented acts of humility,
inclusiveness and unconditional love: He washed the feet of women, a
Muslim and an atheist. Vice President Joe Biden received Communion at
the Vatican. It all is destabilizing in the best sense of that
experience.
As Francis embarks on a papacy seemingly beautifully rooted in Gospel
values, however, a dangerous cloud envelops the Vatican. Composed of the
precipitates of grotesque abuse of power, and suffering that rivals
that of Good Friday, the cloud of unresolved and inadequately addressed
ecclesiastical cover-up of the sexual abuse of tens of thousands of
innocents across the world threatens the ultimate legitimacy of even
this new pope. Two truths are rumbling within that cloud.
The first truth is that Francis must once and for all embody justice
and mercy for sexual abuse victims. This soul-searing crisis never has
been about the priests who abuse and always has been about the
ecclesiastics who protected them while lying to the people of God,
including victims. Bishops and cardinals who protected abusive priests
at the expense of children and then spent millions defending the
indefensible and who remain still in office must be called to account in
some meaningful way.
Francis needs to be clear that shielding a sexually victimizing member
of the clergy will never again be tolerated. When it happens -- and it
does still and will again -- his administration of justice must be swift
and decisive.
At the same time, this apparently deeply heart-full man must extend
compassion and healing to survivors in a way that is believable. I
suspect that he may be much more capable of figuring out how to do that
than either his most recent predecessors or those of us who have been
immersed in this unholy sewage for more than a decade may be. But it has
to be done or the cloud over St. Peter's Square will continue to
thicken, eventually smothering the life out of what seemingly could be a
papacy of kairos.
The second truth, standing in paradoxical relationship with the first,
is that Francis can never do enough to heal those who have been victims
of attempted soul murder by abusive priests and the hierarchs who
sacrificed them to those priests. A stolen childhood can never be
restored; it can only be mourned and healed from. No apologies, no
settlement checks, no release of documents can bring ultimate healing,
although each of those can add threads to tapestries of healing and are
essential components of a social justice response.
The tragedy of sexual abuse is that healing is usually a long journey,
hopefully taken in the skilled and compassionate company of another,
often a therapist. It is often an arduous trek through a dark tunnel and
the light at the end can be elusive for what seems like forever. I have
been working clinically with sexual abuse survivors for 30 years. The
good news is that healing can and does happen and lives once shattered
can become full and rich and laced with love.
I have seen miracles take place in my consultation room. But healing
cannot be bestowed; it can only be earned. Perhaps that seems unfair,
but it is a hard truth that I have learned from years of working with
survivors. In the end, true healing frees the survivor from bondage to
those who wounded her or him.
Thus, two truths confront the new pope and clergy sexual abuse survivors around the world.
Francis must bring humility, honesty, justice, mercy and crystal-clear
transparency to his engagement with clergy sexual abuse and
ecclesiastical abuse of power past, present and future.
At the same time, sexual abuse survivors must be clear-eyed that no
matter what this pope (or anyone else) does, a childhood was desecrated
and nothing will make that right. There is no going back and what it
takes to go forward is hard work, deep mourning and an insistence on
growing into the light of healing.