The Catholic Church’s Biggest Sin (It’s Not the Abuse)
While stories of the sexual abuse of children by Catholic priests are, tragically, nothing new, the recent report from a Pennsylvania grand jury has shaken the faithful as never before.
Just when it seemed as though the church might finally be moving beyond this horrendous chapter in its long history, this new report indicates the cancer of corruption has spread deeper and possibly reached higher than previously known.
Back in 2004, the report, The Nature and Scope of the Problem of Sexual Abuse of Minors by Catholic Priests and Deacons in the United States (commonly known as the John Jay Report), commissioned by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, was supposed to have been the final word on this matter.
Every abuse allegation was to be investigated; every priest and member of the church hierarchy found to be involved defrocked (and potentially prosecuted); financial settlements paid to abuse victims and their families; and the priesthood reformed to prevent such abuses from ever happening again.
The Pennsylvania report makes it clear most of that never really happened. The cover-up continued, even as many of the bishops and other church leaders involved continue to serve.

As sickening, depraved, and perverse as the actions of hundreds of priests have been (the Pennsylvania report makes for painful reading), the abuse itself isn’t the biggest sin of the church: rather, it’s the betrayal.
The church hierarchy betrayed all Catholics in protecting pedophile priests, covering up their crimes, failing to make the changes needed to end the abuse, and lying about that failure.
They betrayed, for decades, the parents of their abuse victims, parents who believed there could be no one safer in whose hands to leave their children than members of the clergy. Parents who expected priests to teach their children about Christian love and help them grow in their faith.
And most of all, of course, they betrayed the children entrusted to their care — children who came to pray, sing, and worship, and couldn’t figure out why Father kept asking them to do things that made them uncomfortable, that hurt, that seemed and felt wrong.
How serious is the act of betrayal?Consider:
- In Dante’s Inferno, the innermost circles of hell are reserved, not for the violent, but for those guilty of hypocrisy, false prophesy, corruption, perjury, and treachery.
- The only crime defined in the U.S. Constitution — punishable by death — is treason. Not murder, but betraying your country.
- Even in the agony of death on the cross, Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34). He asked forgiveness for the Roman soldiers who had just driven nails through his hands and feet. Yet the evening before, during The Last Supper, Jesus said of the apostle who would hand him over to be arrested, “The Son of Man will go just as it is written about Him, but woe to that man by whom He is betrayed! It would be better for him if he had not been born.” (Mark 14:21) The sadistic barbarism of His executioners could be forgiven — but the betrayal of a friend and follower could not.
Had the abuse of children by priests been promptly and firmly dealt with when first discovered, it would still have been an awful thing, but it would have been limited to the despicable behavior of a few individuals.
The betrayal of the flock by their shepherds, over the course of decades, has evilly multiplied the pain and the damage to the church.
My Story
The short version: I was not, personally, abused. But I came frighteningly close.
The long version: Back in the seventh grade, I went on a Catholic weekend retreat with several classmates from middle school. We went with a priest I knew as, and will only refer to, as Father Richard, to a cabin owned by our diocese in the north woods of Minnesota.
The weekend was mostly standard Christian retreat stuff — hikes through the woods, campfires, smores, songs, and prayers.
Then on Saturday night, Father shared with us a few bottles of “unblessed church wine.” We got kind of silly. But nothing very remarkable happened, at least as I recall.
As I got older, I rarely thought about that weekend. Though when I did, it occurred to me that Father Richard’s care of our group, particularly regarding the wine, was a bit odd, rather inappropriate, and (serving alcohol to minors and all) clearly illegal.
One day many years later, when I was in my early 40s, my mother phoned me in a panic. She had read in the newspaper that Father Richard (by this time deceased) was one of the priests accused of multiple instances of abuse.
She remembered that retreat, decades earlier. “What happened that weekend?” she asked me, clearly distressed. Did he touch you? Did he hurt you? Are you sure? Would you tell me?!
Even from the grave, this monster was still able to torment parents.
I assured her I was okay. Nothing had happened.
But other memories from the weekend began coming back to me. When Father brought out the wine, he asked us not to tell our parents about it. It would be “our little secret.”
It seemed such fun at the time. Because we were 13 years old, and we were stupid. And naive. And pretty innocent.
But I began to wonder in what other, much darker, contexts he may have made that same request of other children entrusted to his care.
And…did anything bad happen that weekend, to any of the other kids? How could I know? They wouldn’t have talked about it, not then. I wouldn’t have known who to talk to about it if it had happened to me.
What’s Next
First off, the church needs to actually face this crisis honestly. When Archbishop of Chicago Blase Cupich referred to recent revelations of investigations into clergy sexual abuse as “going down a rabbit hole,” he displayed once again the out-of-touch, modern-day-Pharisee approach of the church hierarchy to not only the victims of abuse but the laity at large.
“Pope Francis has a ‘bigger agenda’ to worry about, including defending migrants and protecting the environment” according to Cupich. One struggles in vain to find the chapter in the gospel of Mark where it says, “The Son of Man will go just as it is written about Him, but woe to that man by whom He is betrayed! It would be better for him if he had not been born. Unless, of course, that person be a climate change skeptic or an ICE agent.” It just isn’t there.
There IS no “bigger agenda” for the leader of the Catholic church than restoring the confidence of the faithful that they can once again trust their clergy to be true shepherds of the flock. To “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these,” in the words of Jesus (Matthew 19;14).
And to spend the weekly collection on the operations of the local church and help for the needy, rather than just covering the costs of compensating the victims of predatory pedophile priests.
Second, there is the issue of homosexuality and the church. This is an area of complex theological scrutiny, but a few points are worth noting:
- Homosexuality is not a psychiatric disorder, as the pope recently suggested (a position his handlers quickly tried to walk back).
- It isn’t clear what share of the abusers are gay. It is clear that 100% of the bishops and others who enabled and covered up the abuse were complicit in the depravity.
- Finally, are gays and lesbians sinners? Most definitely, yes.
But — so are heterosexuals. And transsexuals. Men and women. Old and young. Black people, brown people, and white people.
We are all sinners. Indeed, that is why people of faith go the synagogue, or mosque, or Mass, or services on a regular basis: to acknowledge our sins, repent, ask for forgiveness, and pledge to try to live a better life.
Better, but not perfect. We can’t get there.
Jesus didn’t spend his brief time here on earth hanging out with the righteous of his day, the high priests and Pharisees. He dwelt among the tax collectors and prostitutes (and likely some homosexuals). The sinners. Because they were the ones who needed His redemption.
But the hierarchy of the Catholic church today seems not even able to get through the first five minutes of Mass (you know, the part where we acknowledge our sins and ask for forgiveness).
When the pope himself, the leader of the flock, will not clearly answer questions about clergy sexual abuse in a straightforward manner and is even credibly accused of being part of the cover-up— we are all as lost sheep.
It’s time for much, much better shepherds.
