Scars: A Response to A Response

I took FrChip's dare and posted his response, and have waited some days to respond, so I could do so respecfully. As soon as I read his comment, I went back to re-read my post and thought that really, if he'd written his first, my post would have been a great response to his charges. So I won't say much, but there are two things that I think I might as well respond to, and they are these:

1) I chose the word organization purposely in my post, because it is with the organization side of the Church that I struggle. I'm flat-out, head over heels in love with the Mystical Body of Christ- in fact the existence of the MBOC is the reason I still have hope for the organization. I don't think we can just deny that the Church is an organization, and in fact I think it's really dangerous to do so.

2) I know FrChip's "BC boys" jab is just a lame attempt at a personal dig, but here's the thing. I'm not a cheerleader for BC, just went there because opportunity knocked. For the record, I didn't find it to be the bastion of liberality that everyone warned me it would be. But here's the important thing- I didn't get my theology from BC, not from the "boys" or the "girls" there. What I did get from BC, and for which I'll be eternally grateful, was encouragement not to live in fear of people like FrChip, who just want me (and people like me) to shut up and not make waves, who want me to leave well enough alone so that everyone can pretend the emperor's clothes are fine.

Thanks to everyone who sent me great encouragement off the blog. I hope my writing here is always as kind and thoughtful as it is honest, and I appreciate the opportunity to let my thoughts and feelings bleed out through my fingertips and onto your screen. Always, feel free to comment.

Scars

I spoke to an old friend recently about what I do for a living, that is, working for the Catholic Church.87 I am always ready to talk about what that means, even about the cognitive dissonance involved in working for this organization. But when I mentioned a well-known bone of theological contention, my friend rolled her eyes, hard, and said something about pedophile priests. Now, I understand that this is a natural reaction for people who only know the Church by what they hear in the news, or by people who have left in disgust over this very issue. I so understand that this is the baseline that we, as a Church, have created for ourselves. But I can't help wincing when I hear it from people, especially  people I care about. It's all at once freshly raw and something I wish we could pretend never to have happened.
It's an issue close to my heart- not because I was abused (I wasn't), but because it has been such an earth-shattering experience to live through, in a religion that holds not only my belief system but my family, my marriage, my career, my identity. It has been a struggle of how to stay in an organization such as this, how to justify teaching Her ways to others while feeling deep hurt. and if you've been reading here for very long, you know how hard that struggle is for me, as well as how genuinely risky it is to admit that I struggle at all. We live in a time of fidelity oaths for catechists... it's not okay to struggle with with the faith and it's not okay to struggle with the leadership.
On the other side of the reactive spectrum, I know parish workers and diocesan workers who have clung to their faith in this church. Maybe it's their way of surviving through the state of things, to turn harder around and work harder at seeing only the good. I totally get the appeal of that response- I'd do that, too, if any fiber of my being would allow me to. But I watch my "company man" friends and fear for the day when they are bitten by the very snake they are trying to bandage. Maybe it never will happen, and I'll envy their lifetime un-scathed. But because I've been there (because I am there) I know that if it happens, in whatever form it happens, when people who are devoted and trusting of their Mother Church find themselves receiving the wrong side of Her hand, it's going to hurt and it's going to hurt BAD. I watch these people with a combination of envy and worry.
I love this Church, this Church that has made me question everything about my faith, my beliefs, my place in the world. On the whole I think it's healthier to be the kind of (suspicious, pained, grounded in recent history) Catholic that I am, than to be the Company Man kind of Catholic. I'm on the backside of the (inevitable?) fall from grace, for sure, but I'm not curled in a ball. I'm up, I'm walking, I'm shaking it off and healing my wounds. I'm still here and still in the game. I know stuff I never dreamed and would never hope to know. I'm part of the recovery.